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CASTLE OF ZENDA. 





THE PRISONER OF ZENDA 


Being the History of Three Months in the 
Life of an English Gentleman 

BY 

ANTHONY HOPE 
IClitb five full^page Ulluatratrona 

BY 

CHARLES DANA GIBSON 

And a view and plan of the castle op Zenda 
BY HOWARD INCE 



NEW YORK 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 


1909 





/ 



Copyright, 1894, x898» 

EY 

HENRY HOLT & Ca i Ji 

'* -v- 







1 ■ '■ .t 





TABLE OF CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I, The Rassendylls— With a Word on 

THE ELPHBERGS I 

II. Concerning the Color of Men’s Hair... 13 

III. A Merry Evening with a Distant Rel- 

ative 27 

IV. The King Keeps His Appointment 43 

V. The Adventures of an Understudy.... 56 

VI. The Secret of a Cellar 70 

VH. His Majesty Sleeps in Strelsau 83 

VIII. A Fair Cousin and a Dark Brother 96 

IX. A New Use for a Tea Table 112 

X. A Great Chance for a Villain. 128 

XI. Hunting a Very Big Boar 143 

XII. I Receive a Visitor and Bait a Hook.. 158 

XIII. An Improvement on Jacob’s Ladder.... 172 

XIV. A Night Outside the Castle 186 

XV. I Talk with a Tempter 199 

XVI. A Desperate Plan 213 

XVII. Young Rupert’s Midnight Diversions.. 227 

XVIII. The Forcing of the Trap 240 

XIX. Face to Face in the Forest 252 

XX. The Prisoner and the King 265 

XXI. If Love Were All 1 280 

XXII. Present, Past— and Future? 294 


V 


I, 

1 


V 

i 

4 

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\ 



THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE RASSENDYLLS WITH A WORD ON THE ELPH- 

BERGS. 

** I WONDER when in the world you’re going to 
do anything, Rudolf? ” said my brother’s wife. 

My dear Rose,” I answered, laying down my 
egg-spoon, why in the world should I do any- 
thing? My position is a comfortable one. I have 
an income nearly sufficient for my wants (no one’s 
income is ever quite sufficient, you know). I enjoy 
an ^viable social position: I am brother to Lord 
Burlesdon, and brother-in-law to that most charm- 
ing lady his countess. Behold, it is enough! ” 

You are nine-and-twenty,” she observed, and 

you’ve done nothing but ” 

Knock about? It is true. Our family doesn’t 
need to do things.” 

This remark of mine rather annoyed Rose, for 


THE PRISONER OF ZEND/t. 


everybody knows (and therefore there can be no 
harm in referring to the fact) that, pretty and ac- 
complished as she herself is, her family is hardly of 
the same standing as the Rassendylls. Besides her 
attractions, she possessed a large fortune, and my 
brother Robert was wise enough not to mind about 
her ancestry. Ancestry is, in fact, a matter con- 
cerning which the next observation of Rose’s has 
some truth. 

“ Good families are generally worse than any 
others,” she said. 

Upon this I stroked my hair; I knew quite well 
what she meant. 

“ I’m so glad Robert’s is black! ” she cried. 

At this moment Robert (who rises at seven and 
works before breakfast) came in. He glanced at 
his wife; her cheek was slightly flushed; he patted it 
caressingly. 

“ What’s the matter, my dear? ” he asked. 

“ She objects to my doing nothing and having 
red hair,” said I in an injured tone. 

“ Oh ! of course he can’t help his hair,” admitted 
Rose. 


THE RASSENDYLLS, 


3 


It generally crops out once in a generation/’ 
said my brother. So does the nose. Rudolf has 
got them both.” 

I wish they didn’t crop out/’ said Rose, still 
flushed. 

I rather like them myself,” said I, and, rising, 
I bowed to the portrait of Countess Amelia. 

My brother’s wife uttered an exclamation of im- 
patience. 

'' I wish you’d take that picture away, Robert,” 
said she. 

My dear! ” he cried. 

Good Heavens! ” I added. 

Then it might be forgotten,” she continued. 

'' Hardly — with Rudolf about,” said Robert, 
shaking his head. 

Why should it be forgotten? ” I asked. 

Rudolf! ” exclaimed my brother’s wife, blush- 
ing very prettily. 

I laughed, and went on with my egg. At least 
I had shelved the question of what (if anything) I 
ought to do. And by way of closing the discus- 
sion— and also, I must admit, of exasperating my 


4 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


strict little sister-in-law a trifle more — I ob- 
served: 

'' I rather like being an Elphberg myself/^ 

When I read a story I skip the explanations; yet 
the moment I begin to write one I find that I must 
have an explanation. For it is manifest that I 
must explain why my sister-in-law was vexed with 
my nose and hair, and why I ventured to call my- 
self an Elphberg. For, eminent as, I must protest, 
the Rassendylls have been for many generations, 
yet participation in their blood of course does not, 
at first sight, justify the boast of a connection with 
the grander stock of the Elphbergs or a claim to be 
one of that royal house. For what relationship is 
there between Ruritania and Burlesdon, between 
the palace at Strelsau or the castle of Zenda and 
No. 305 Park Lane, W.? 

Well, then — and I must premise that I am going, 
perforce, to rake up the very scandal which my 
dear Lady Burlesdon wishes forgotten — in the year 
1733, George II. sitting then on the throne, peace 
reigning for the moment, and the king and the 
Prince of Wales being not yet at loggerheads, there 


lASSENDYLLS. 


5 


came on a the English court a certain 


^rward known to history as 


prince, wh 


Rudolf the iluritania. The prince was a 


iig fellow, marked (maybe 


tall, hands 


marred, it is nc .. ne to say) by a somewhat un- 
usually long, shai; , md straight nose, and a mass 
of dark-red hair — in fact, the nose and the hair 
which have stamped the Elphbergs time out of 
mind. He stayed some months in England, where 
he was most courteously received; yet in the end 
he left rather under a cloud. For he fought a duel 
(it was considered highly well bred of him to waive 
all question of his rank) with a nobleman, well 
known in the society of the day, not only for his 
own merits,* but as the husband of a very beautiful 
wife. In that duel Prince Rudolf received a severe 
wound, and recovering therefrom, was adroitly 
smuggled off by the Ruritanian ambassador, who 
had found him a pretty handful. The nobleman 
was not wounded in the duel ; but the morning be- 
ing raw and damp on the occasion of the meeting, 
he contracted a severe chill, and failing to throw it 
off, he died some six months after the departure 




6 


THE PRISONER Oi 


of Prince Rudolf, without ha • , - I leisure to 

adjust his relations with his % ■ > after an- 
other two months bore an 1; < > ; title and 

estates of the family of Buries i s lady was 

the Countess Amelia, whose piciuic my sister-in- 
law wished to remove from the drawing room in 
Park Lane; and her husband was James, fifth Earl 
of Burlesdon and twenty-second Baron Rassendyll, 
both in the peerage of England, and a Knight of 
the Garter. As for Rudolf, he went back to Ruri- 
tania, married a wife, and ascended the throne, 
whereon his progeny in the direct line have sat 
from then till this very hour — ^with one short in- 
terval. And, finally, if you walk through the pic- 
ture galleries at Burlesdon, among the fifty por- 
traits or so of the last century and a half you will 
find five or six, including that of the sixth earl, dis- 
tinguished by long, sharp, straight noses and a 
quantity of dark-red hair; these five or six have 
also blue eyes, whereas among the Rassendylls 
dark eyes are the commoner. 

That is the explanation, and I am glad to have 
finished it: the blemishes on honorable lineage are 


THE RASSENDYLLS, 


a delicate subject, and certainly this heredity we 
hear so much about is the finest scandalmonger in 
the world; it laughs at discretion, and writes 
strange entries between the lines of the “ Peer- 
age/^ 

It will be observed that my sister-in-law, with a 
want of logic that must have been peculiar to her- 
self (since we are no longer allowed to lay it to the 
charge of her sex), treated my complexion almost 
as an offense for which I was responsible, hasten- 
ing to assume from that external sign inward quali- 
ties of which I protest my entire innocence; and 
this unjust inference she sought to buttress by 
pointing to the uselessness of the life I had led. 
Well, be that as it may, I had picked up a good deal 
of pleasure and a good deal of knowledge. I had 
been to a German school and a German university, 
and spoke German as readily and perfectly as Eng- 
lish; I was thoroughly at home in French; I had a 
smattering of Italian, and enough Spanish to swear 
by. I was, I believe, a strong, though hardly a 
fine, swordsman and a good shot. I could ride 
anything that had a back to sit on; and my head 


8 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


was as cool a one as you could find, for all its flam- 
ing cover. If you say that I ought to have spent 
my time in useful labor I am out of court and have 
nothing to say, save that my parents had no busi- 
ness to leave me two thousand pounds a year and a 
roving disposition. 

“ The difference between you and Robert,” said 
my sister-in-law, who often (bless her!) speaks on a 
platform, and oftener still as if she were on one, 
“ is that he recognizes the duties of his position, 
and you only see the opportunities of yours.” 

“ To a man of spirit, my dear Rose,” I answered, 
“ opportunities are duties.” 

“ Nonsense! ” said she, tossing her head; and 
after a moment she went on: “Now here’s Sir 
Jacob Borrodaile offering you exactly what you 
might be equal to.” 

“ A thousand thanks ! ” I murmured. 

“ He’s to have an embassy in six months, and 
Robert says he is sure that he’ll take you as an 
attache. Do take it, Rudolf — to please me.” 

Now when my sister-in-law puts the matter in 
that way. Wrinkling her pretty brows, twisting her 


THE RASSENDYLLS, 


9 


little hands, and growing wistful in the eyes, all on 
account of an idle scamp like myself, for whom she 
has no natural responsibility, I am visited with 
compunction. Moreover, I thought it possible that 
I could pass the time in the position suggested with 
some tolerable amusement. Therefore I said: 

My dear sister, if in six months’ time no unfore- 
seen obstacle has arisen, and Sir Jacob invites me, 
hang me if I don’t go with Sir Jacob! ” 

O Rudolf, how good of you! I am glad! ” 
Where’s he going to? ” 

'' He doesn’t know yet; but it’s sure to be a good 
embassy.” 

Madame,” said I, “ for your sake I’ll go if it’s 
no more than a beggarly legation. When I do a 
thing I don’t do it by halves.” 

My promise, then, was given ; but six months are 
six months, and seem an eternity, and inasmuch 
as they stretched between me and my prospective 
industry (I suppose attaches are industrious; but 
I know not, for I never became attache to Sir Jacob 
or to anybody else) I cast about for some desirable 
mode of spending them. And it occurred to me 

/ 


lO 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


suddenly that I would visit Ruritania. It may seem 
strange that I had never visited that country yet; 
but my father (in spite of a sneaking fondness for 
the Elphbergs, which led him to give me, his sec- 
ond son, the famous Elphberg name of Rudolf) had 
always been averse to my going, and since his death 
my brother, prompted by Rose, had accepted the 
family tradition which taught that a wide berth was 
to be given to that country. But the moment 
Ruritania had come into my head I was eaten up 
with curiosity to see it. After all, red hair and long 
noses are not confined to the House of Elphberg, j 
and the old story seemed a preposterously insuffi- 
cient reason for debarring myself from acquaint- 
ance with a highly interesting and important king- 
dom, one which had played no small part in Euro- 
pean history, and might do the like again under the 
sway of a young and vigorous ruler, such as the 
new king was rumored to be. My determination 
was clinched by reading in The Times that Rudolf 
the Fifth was to be crowned at Strelsau in the 
course of the next three weeks, and that great mag- 
nificence was to mark the occasion. At once I 


THE RASSENDYLLS, 


IX 


made up my mind to be present, and began my 
preparations. But inasmuch as it has never 
been my practice to furnish my relatives with an 
itinerary of my journeys, and in this case I antici- 
pated opposition to my wishes, I gave out that I 
was going for a ramble in the Tyrol — an old haunt j 
of mine — and propitiated Rose’s wrath by declaring 
that I intended to study the political and social . 
problems of the interesting community which j 
dwells in that neighborhood. 

'' Perhaps,” I hinted darkly, there may be an 
outcome of the expedition.” 

What do you mean? ” she asked. 

Well,” said I carelessly, there seems a gap 
that might be filled by an exhaustive work 
on ” 

‘‘ Oh! will you write a book ?” she cried, clap- 
ping her hands. That would be splendid, 
wouldn’t it, Robert? ” 

It’s the best of introductions to political life 
nowadays,” observed my brother, who has, by the 
way, introduced himself in this manner several 
times over. Burlesdon on Ancient Theories and 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


Modern Facts ” and The Ultimate Outcome,” by 
a Political Student, are both works of recognized 
eminence. 

'' I believe you are right, Bob, my boy,’’ said I. 

Now promise you’ll do it,” said Rose earnestly. 

‘'No, I won’t promise; but if I find enough ma- 
terial I will.” 

“ That's fair enough,” said Robert. 

“Oh! material doesn’t matter,” she said, 
pouting. 

But this time she could get no more than a quali- 
fied promise out of me. To tell the truth, I would 
have wagered a handsome sum that the story of 
my expedition that summer would stain no paper 
and spoil not a single pen. And that shows how 
little we know what the future holds; for here I am, 
fulfilling my qualified promise, and writing, as I 
never thought to write, a book — though it will 
hardly serve as an introduction to political life, and 
has not a jot to do with the Tyrol. 

Neither would it, I fear, please Lady Burlesdon, 
if I were to submit it to her critical eye — a step 
which I have no intention of taking. 


CHAPTER IL 


CONCERNING THE COLOR OF MEN’S HAIR. 

It was a maxim of my Uncle William’s that no 
man should pass through Paris without spending 
four-and-twenty hours there. My uncle spoke out 
of a ripe experience of the world, and I honored 
his advice by putting up for a day and a night at 
The Continental on my way to — the Tyrol. I 
called on George Featherly at the embassy, and we 
had a bit of dinner together at Durand’s, and after- 
ward dropped in to the Opera; and after that we 
had a little supper, and after that we called on Ber- 
tram Bertrand, a versifier of some repute and Paris 
correspondent to The Critic. He had a very com- 
fortable little suite of rooms, and we found some 
pleasant fellows smoking and talking. It struck 
me, however, that Bertram himself was absent and 
in low spirits, and when everybody except our- 
selves had gone I rallied him on his moping pre- 


*4 


THE PRISONER OF ZEND/t. 


occupation. He fenced with me for a while, but 
at last, flinging himself on a sofa, he exclaimed: 

“ Very well ; have it your own way. I am in love 
— infernally in love! ” 

“ Oh, you’ll write the better poetry,” said I by 
way of consolation. 

He ruffled his hair with his hand and smoked 
furiously. George Featherly, standing with his 
back to the mantelpiece, smiled unkindly. 

“ If it’s the old affair,” said he, “ you may as well 
throw it up, Bert. She’s leaving Paris to-morrow.” 

“ I know that,” snapped Bertram. 

“ Not that it would make any difference if she 
stayed,” pursued the relentless George. “ She flies 
higher than the paper trade, my boy I ” 

“ Hang her! ” said Bertram. 

“ It would make it more interesting for me,” I 
ventured to observe, “ if I knew who you were 
talking about.” 

“ Antoinette Mauban,” said George. 

“ De Mauban,” growled Bertram. 

“ Oho! ” said I, passing by the question of the 
de. “ You don’t mean to say, Bert ” 


CONCERNING THE COLOR OF MEWS HAIR, 15 


Can’t you let me alone? ” 

Where’s she going to? ” I asked, for the lady 
was something of a celebrity. 

George jingled his money, smiled cruelly at poor 
Bertram, and answered pleasantly: 

Nobody knows. By the way, Bert, I met a 
great man at her house the other night — at least, 
I about a month ago. Did you ever meet him — the 
Duke of Strelsau? ” 

Yes, I did,” growled Bertram. 

An extremely accomplished man, I thought 
him.” 

It was not hard to see that George’s references 
to the duke were intended to aggravate poor 
Bertram’s sufferings, so that I drew the inference 
that the duke had distinguished Mme. de Mauban 
by his attentions. She was a widow, rich, hand- 
some, and, according to repute, ambitious. It 
was quite possible that she, as George put it, was 
flying as high as a personage who was everything 
he could be short of enjoying a strictly royal rank: 
j for the duke was the son of the late King of Ruri- 
tania by a second and morganatic marriage, and 


1 6 THE PRISONER OF ZEN DA. 

j^half brother to the new king. He had been his 
father’s favorite, and it had occasioned some un- 
favorable comment when he had been created a 
duke, with a title derived from no less a city than 
the capital itself. His mother had been of good, 
but not exalted, birth. 

“ He’s not in Paris now, is he? ” I asked. 

“ Oh, no! He’s gone back to be present at the 
king’s coronation ; a ceremony which, I should say, 
he’ll not enjoy much. But, Bert, old man, don’t 
despair! He won’t marry the fair Antoinette — at 
least, not unless another plan comes to nothing. 

Still, perhaps, she ” He paused and added with 

a laugh: “ Royal attentions are hard to resist — ^you 
know that, don’t you, Rudolf? ” 

“ Confound you! ” said I; and, rising, I left the 
hapless Bertram in George’s hands and went home 
to bed. 

The next day George Featherly went with me to 
the station, where I took a ticket for Dresden. 

“ Going to see the pictures?” asked George, with 
a grin. 

George is an inveterate gossip, and had I told 


CONCERNING THE COLOR OF MEN^S HAIR. 17 


him that I was off to Ruritania the news would 
have been in London in three days and in Park 
Lane in a week. I was therefore about to return 
an evasive answer when he saved my conscience by 
leaving me suddenly and darting across the plat- 
form. Following him with my eyes, I saw him 
lift his hat and accost a graceful, fashionably 
dressed woman who had just appeared from the 
booking office. She was perhaps a year or two 
over thirty, tall, dark, and of rather full figure. As 
George talked, I saw her glance at me, and my 
vanity was hurt by the thought that, muffled in a 
fur coat and a neck wrapper (for it was a chilly 
April day) and wearing a soft traveling hat pulled 
down over my ears, I must be looking very far 
from my best. A moment later George rejoined 
me. 

YouVe got a charming traveling companion,’^ 
he said. That’s poor Bert Bertrand’s goddess, 
Antoinette de Mauban, and, like you, she’s going 
to Dresden — also, no doubt, to see the pictures. 
It’s very queer, though, that she doesn’t at present 
desire the honor of your acquaintance.” 


i8 THE PRISONER OP ZENDH. 

“ I didn’t ask to be introduced,” I observed, a 
little annoyed. 

“ Well, I offered to bring you to her; but she 
said, ‘ Another time.’ Never mind, old fellow, 
perhaps there’ll be a smash, and you’ll have a 
chance of rescuing her and cutting out the Duke 
of Strelsau! ” 

No smash, however, happened, either to me or 
to Mme. de Mauban. I can speak for her as con- 
fidently as for myself; for when, after a night’s rest 
in Dresden, I continued my journey she got into 
the same train. Understanding that she wished to 
be let alone, I avoided her carefully, but I saw that 
she went the same way as I did to the very end of 
my journey, and I took opportunities of having a 
good look at her, when I could do so unobserved. 

As soon as we reached the Ruritanian frontier 
(where the old officer who presided over the cus- 
tomhouse favored me with such a stare that I felt 
surer than before of my Elphberg physiognomy) I 
bought the papers, and found in them news which 
affected my movements. For some reason, which 
was not clearly explained and seemed to be some- 


CONCERNING THE COLOR OF MEN^S HAIR. 19 


thing of a mystery, the date of the coronation had 
been suddenly advanced, and the ceremony was to 
take place on the next day but one. The whole 
country seemed in a stir about it, and it was evi- 
dent that Strelsau was thronged. Rooms were all 
let and hotels overflowing; there would be very 
little chance of my obtaining a lodging, and I 
should certainly have to pay an exorbitant charge 
for it. I made up my mind to stop at Zenda, a | 
small town fifty miles short of the capital, and about 
ten from the frontier. My train reached there in 
the evening; I would spend the next day, Tuesday, 
in a wander over the hills, which were said to be 
very fine, and in taking a glance at the famous 
castle, and go over by train to Strelsau on the 
Wednesday morning, returning at night to sleep at 
Zenda. 

Accordingly at Zenda I got out, and as the train 
passed where I stood on the platform, I saw my 
friend Mme. de Mauban in her place; clearly she 
was going through to Strelsau, having, with more 
providence than I could boast, secured apartments 
there. I smiled to think how surprised George 


20 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


Featherly would have been to know that she and I 
had been follow-travelers for so long. 

I was very kindly received at the hotel — it was 
really no more than an inn — kept by a fat old lady 
and her two daughters. They were good, quiet 
people, and seemed very little interested in the 
great doings at Strelsau. The old lady’s hero was 
the duke, for he was now, under the late king’s will, 
master of the Zenda estates and of the castle, which 
rose grandly on its steep hill at the end of the val- 
ley, a mile or so from the inn. The old lady, in- 
deed, did not hesitate to express her regret that the 
duke was not on the throne instead of his brother. 

“ We know Duke Michael,” said she. “ He has 
always lived among us; every Ruritanian knows 
Duke Michael. But the king is almost a stranger; 
he has been so much abroad not one in ten knows 
him even by sight.” 

“ And now,” chimed in one of the young women, 
“ they say he has shaved off his beard, so that no 
one at all knows him.” 

“ Shaved his beard ! ” exclaimed her mother. 


“ Who says so? 


CONCERNING THE COLOR OF MEN^S HAIR. 

'"Johann, the duke’s keeper. He has seen tte 
I king.” 

" Ah, yes ! The king, sir, is now at the duke^s 
shooting lodge in the forest here; from here ha 
goes to Strelsau to be crowned on Wednesday 
morning.” 

I was interested to hear this, and made up my 
mind to walk next day in the direction of the lodge 
on the chance of coming across the king. The old 
lady ran on garrulously: 

" Ah ! and I wish he would stay at his shooting 
— that and wine (and one thing more) are all he 
loves, they say — and suffer our duke to be crowned 
on Wednesday. That I wish, and I don’t care who 
knows it.” 

Hush, mother! ” urged the daughters. 

^'Oh, there’s many to think as I do ! ” cried the 
old woman stubbornly. 

I threw myself back in my deep armchair and 
laughed at her zeal. 

For my part,” said the younger and prettier of 
the two daughters, a fair, buxom, smiling wench^^ 

I hate Black Michael! A red Elphberg for me^ 


92 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


mother! The king, they say, is as red as a fox or 
as ” 

And she laughed mischievously as she cast a 
glance at me, and tossed her head at her sister’s re- 
proving face. 

“ Many a man has cursed this red hair before 
now,” muttered the old lady — and I remembered 
James, fifth Earl of Burlesdon. 

“ But never a woman I ” cried the gjrl. 

“ Ay, and women, when it was too late,” was the 
stern answer, reducing the girl to silence and 
blushes. 

“ How comes the king here? ” I asked, to break 
an embarrassed silence. “ It is the duke’s land 
here, you say.” 

“ The duke invited him, sir, to rest here till 
Wednesday. The duke is at Strelsau, preparing 
the king’s reception.” 

“ Then they’re friends? ” 

“ None better,” said the old lady. 

But my rosy damsel tossed her head again; she 
was not to be repressed for long, and she broke 
out again: 


CONCERNING THE COLOR OF MEN^S HAIR. 


Aye, they lave one another as men do who 
want the same place and the same wife! ’’ 

The old woman glowered; but the last words 
pricked my curiosity, and I interposed before she 
could begin scolding: 

What, the same wife, too! How’s that, young 
lady? ” 

All the world knows that Black Michael — well, 
then, mother, the duke — would give his soul to 
marry his cousin, the Princess Flavia, and that she 
is to be the queen.” 

Upon my word,” said I, I begin to be sorry 
for your duke. But if a man will be a younger 
son, why, he must take what the elder leaves, and 
be as thankful to God as he can; ” and, thinking of 
myself, I shrugged my shoulders and laughed. 
And then I thought also of Antoinette de Mauban 
and her journey to Strelsau. 

It’s little dealing Black Michael has with ” 

began the girl, braving her mother’s anger; 
but as she spoke a heavy step sounded on the 
floor, and a gruff voice asked in a threatening 
tone: 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


“ Who talks of ‘ Black Michael ’ in his Highness’ 
own burgh? ” 

The girl gave a little shriek, half of fright — half, 
I think, of amusement. 

“ You’ll not tell of me, Johann? ” she said. 

“ See where your chatter leads,” said the old 
lady. 

The man who had spoken came forward. 

“ We have company, Johann,” said my hostess, 
and the fellow plucked off his cap. A moment 
later he saw me, and to my amazement he started 
back a step, as though he had seen something won- 
derful. 

“ What ails you, Johann? ” asked the elder girl. 
“ This is a gentleman on his travels, come to see the 
coronation.” 

The man had recovered himself, but he was star- 
ing at me with an intense, searching, almost fierce 
glance. 

“ Good-evening to you,” said I. 

“ Good-evening, sir,” he muttered, still scrutin- 
izing me, and the merry girl began to laugh as she 
called: * 


CONCERNING THE COLOR OF MEN^S HAIR. 


See, Johann, it is the color you love! He 
started to see your hair, sir. It’s not the color we 
see most of here in Zenda.” 

I crave your pardon, sir,” stammered the fel» 
low, with puzzled eyes. '' I expected to see no 
one.” 

Give him a glass to drink my health in; and III 
bid you good-night, and thanks to you, ladies, for 
your courtesy and pleasant conversation.” 

So speaking, I rose to my feet, and with a slight 
bow turned to the door. The young girl ran to 
light me on the way, and the man fell back to let 
me pass, his eyes still fixed on me. The moment I 
was by he started a step forward, asking: 

Pray, sir, do you know our king? ” 

'' I never saw him,” said I. I hope to do so 
on Wednesday.” 

He said no more, but I felt his eyes following 
me till the door closed behind me. My saucy con- 
ductor, looking over her shoulder at me as she pre-’ 
ceded me upstairs, said : 

There’s no pleasing Master Johann for one Q& 
your color, sir.” 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


36 

“ He prefers yours, maybe? ” I suggested. 

“ I meant, sir, in a man,” she answered, with a 
coquettish glance. 

“ What,” asked I, taking hold of the other side 
of the candlestick, “ does color matter in a man? ” 

“ Nay, but I love yours — it’s the Elphberg red.” 

“ Color in a man,” said I, “ is a matter of no more 
moment than that! ” and I gave her something of 
no value. 

“ God send the kitchen door be shut! ” said she. 

“ Amen ! ” said I, and left her. 

In fact, however, as I now know, color is some- 
times of considerable moment to a man. 


CHAPTER III. 


A MERRY EVENING WITH A DISTANT RELATIVE. 

I WAS not SO unreasonable as to be prejudiced 
against the duke’s keeper because he disliked my 
complexion; and if I had been, his most civil and 
obliging conduct (as it seemed to me to be) next 
morning would have disarmed me. Hearing that 
I was bound for Strelsau, he came to see me while I 
was breakfasting, and told me that a sister of his, 
who had married a well-to-do tradesman and lived 
in the capital, had invited him to occupy a room in 
her house. He had gladly accepted, but now found 
that his duties would not permit of his absence. He 
begged, therefore, that if such humble (though, as 
he added, clean and comfortable) lodgings would 
satisfy me I would take his place. He pledged his 
sister’s acquiescence, and urged the inconvenience 
and crowding to which I should be subject in my 
journeys to and from Strelsau the next day. I ac- 


97 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


cepted his offer without a moment’s hesitation, and 
he went off to telegraph to his sister, while I packed 
up and prepared to take the next train. But I still 
hankered after the forest and the shooting lodge, 
and when my little maid told me that I could, by 
walking ten miles or so through the forest, hit the 
railway at a roadside station, I decided to send my 
luggage direct to the address which Johann had 
given, take my walk, and follow to Strelsau myself. 
Johann had gone off and was not aware of the 
change in my plans; but as its only effect was to de- 
lay my arrival at his sister’s for a few hours, there 
was no reason for troubling to inform him of it. 
Doubtless the good lady would waste no anxiety 
on my account. 

I took an early luncheon, and having bidden my 
kind entertainers farewell, promising to return to 
them on my way home, I set out to climb the hill 
that led to the castle, and thence to the forest of 
Zenda. Half an hour’s leisurely walking brought 
me to the castle. It had been a fortress in old days, 
and the ancient keep was still in good preservation 
and very imposing. Behind it stood another por- 




plan of the castle of ZE '^ VA .— Paj-e 2 c . 


A MERRY EVENING. 


^9 


Hon of the original castle, and behind that again, 
and separated from it by a deep and broad moat, 
which ran all round the old buildings, was a hand- 
some modern chateau, erected by the last king, and 
now forming the country residence of the Duke of 
Strelsau, The old and the new portions were con- 
nected by a drawbridge, and this indirect mode of 
access formed the only passage between the old 
building and the outer world; but leading to the 
modern chateau there was a broad and handsome 
avenue. It was an ideal residence ; when Black 
Michael desired company he could dwell in his 
chateau; if a fit of misanthropy seized him he had 
merely to cross the bridge and draw it up after him 
(it ran on rollers), and nothing short of a regiment 
and a train of artillery could fetch him out. I went 
on my way, glad that poor Black Michael, though 
be could not have the throne or the princess, had at 
least got as fine a residence as any prince in Europe. 

Soon I entered the forest, and walked on for an 
hour or more in its cool, somber shade. The great 
trees enlaced with one another over my head, and 
the sunshine stole through in patches as bright as 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


30 

diamonds, and hardly bigger. I was enchanted 
with the place, and finding a felled tree trunk, 
propped my back against it, and stretching my legs 
out, gave myself up to undisturbed contemplation 
of the solemn beauty of the woods and to the com- 
fort of a good cigar. And when the cigar was fin- 
ished, and I had (I suppose) inhaled as much beauty 
as I could, I went off into the most delightful sleep, 
regardless of my train to Strelsau and of the fast- 
waning afternoon. To remember a train in such 
a spot would have been rank sacrilege. Instead of 
that I fell to dreaming that I was married to the 
Princess Flavia and dwelt in the castle of Zenda, 
and beguiled whole days with my love in the glades 
of the forest, which made a very pleasant dream. 
In fact, I was just impressing a fervent kiss on the 
charming lips of the princess when I heard (and 
the voice seemed at first a part of the dream) some- 
one exclaim in rough, strident tones: 

“ Why, the devil’s in it ! Shave him and he’d 
be the king! ” 

The idea seemed whimsical enough for a dream j 
by the sacrifice of my heavy mustache and carefully 


A MERRY EVENING, 


33 


pointed imperial I was to be transformed into a 
monarch! I was about to kiss the princess again 
when I arrived (very reluctantly) at the conclusion 
that I was awake. 

I opened my eyes, and found two men regarding 
me with much curiosity. Both wore shooting cos- 
tum_es and carried guns. One was rather short and 
very stoutly built, with a big bullet-shaped head, a 
bristly gray mustache, and small, pale-blue eyes, a 
trifle bloodshot. The other was a slender young 
fellow, of middle height, dark in complexion, and 
bearing himself with grace and distinction. I set 
the one down as an old soldier; the other for a gen- 
tleman accustomed to move in good society, but 
not unused to military life either. It turned out 
afterward that my guess was a good one. 

The elder man approached me, beckoning the 
younger to follow. He did so, courteously raising 
his hat. I rose to my feet. 

He's the height, too ! " I heard the elder mur- 
mur as he surveyed my six feet two inches of 
stature. Then, with a cavalier touch of the cap, he 
addressed me: 


32 - THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 

“ May I ask your name? ” 

“ As you have taken the first step in the acquaint* 
ance, gentlemen,” said I, with a smile, “ suppose 
you give me a lead in the matter of names.” 

The young man stepped fonvard with a pleasant 
smile. 

“ This,” said he, “ is Colonel Sapt, and I am 
called Fritz von Tarlenheim; we are both in the 
service of the King of Ruritania.” 

I bowed and, baring my head, answered : 

“ I am Rudolf Rassendyll. I am a traveler from 
England ; and once for a year or two I held a com- 
mission from her Majesty the Queen.” 

“ Then we are all brethren of the sword,” an- 
swered Tarlenheim, holding out his hand, which I 
took readily. 

“ Rassendyll, Rassendyll ! ” muttered Colonel 
Sapt; then a gleam of intelligence flitted across his 
face. 

“ By Heaven ! ” he cried, “ you’re of the 
Burlesdons? ” 

“ My brother is now Lord Burlesdon,” said L 

“ Thy head bewrayeth thee,” he chuckled, point- 


A MERRY EVENING. 


33 


mg to my uncovered poll. Why, Fritz, you 
know the story? ” 

The young man glanced apologetically at me. 
He felt a delicacy which my sister-in-law would 
have admired. To put him at his ease I remarked, 
with a smile: 

Ah ! the story is known here as well as among 
us, it seems.’’ 

Known! ” cried Sapt. If you stay here the 
deuce a man in all Ruritania will doubt of it — or a 
woman either.” 

I began to feel uncomfortable. Had I realized 
what a very plainly written pedigree I carried about 
with me, I should have thought long before I vis- 
ited Ruritaniao However, I was in for it now. 

At this moment a ringing voice sounded from 
the wood behind us: 

Fritz, Fritz! where are you, man?” 

Tarlenheim started, and said hastily: 

It’s the king! ” 

Old Sapt chuckled again. 

Then a young man jumped out from behind the 
trunk of a tree and stood beside us. As I looked 


34 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


on him I uttered an astonished cry; and he, seeing 
me, drew back in sudden wonder. Saving the hair 
on my face and a manner of conscious dignity 
which his position gave him, saving also that he 
lacked perhaps half an inch — nay, less than that, 
but still something — of my height, the King of 
Ruritana might have been Rudolf Rassendyll, and 
I Rudolf the King. 

For an instant we stood motionless, looking at 
one another. Then I bared my head again and 
bowed respectfully. The king found his voice, and 
asked in bewilderment : 

“Colonel — Fritz — who is this gentleman?” 

I was about to answer when Colonel Sapt 
stepped between the king and me, and began to 
talk to his Majesty in a low growl. The king 
towered over Sapt, and as he listened his eyes now 
and again sought mine. I looked at him long and 
carefully. The likeness was certainly astonishing, 
though I saw the points of difference also. The 
king’s face was slightly more fleshy than mine, the 
oval of its contour the least trifle more pronounced, 
and, as I fancied, *^his mouth lacked something of 


A MERRY EVENING, 


3S 


the firmness (or obstinacy) which was to be gath- 
ered from my close-shutting lips. But for all that, 
and above all minor distinctions, the likeness rose 
striking, salient, wonderful. 

Sapt ceased speaking, and the king still frowned. 
Then, gradually, the corners of his mouth began 
to twitch, his nose came down (as mine does when 
I laugh), his eyes twinkled, and, behold! he burst 
into the merriest fit of irrepressible laughter, which 
rang through the woods and proclaimed him a 
jovial soul. 

^‘Well met, cousin!’’ he cried, stepping up to 
me, clapping me on the back, and laughing still. 

You must forgive me if I was taken aback. A 
man doesn’t expect to see double at this time of 
day; eh, Fritz? ” 

I must pray pardon, sire, for my presumption,” 
said I. I trust it will not forfeit your Majesty’s 
favor.” 

By Heaven! you’ll always enjoy the king’s 
countenance,” he laughed, “ whether I like it or 
not; and, sir, I shall very gladly add to it wha ser- 
vices I can. Where are you traveling to? ” 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. . 


“To Strelsau, sire^ — to the coronation,” 

The king looked at his friends: he still smiled, 
though his expression hinted some uneasiness. 
But the humorous side of the matter caught him 
again. 

“ Fritz, Fritz! ” he cried, “ a thousand crowns for 
a sight of brother Michael’s face when he sees a 
pair of us!” and the merry laugh rang out 
again. 

“ Seriously,” observed Fritz von Tarlenheim, “ I 
question Mr. Rassendyll’s wisdom in visiting Strel^ 
sau just now.” 

The king lit a cigarette. 

“ Well, Sapt? ” said he questioningly. 

“ He mustn’t go,” growled the old fellow. 

“ Come, colonel, you mean that I should be Ie 
M r. Rassendyll’s debt if ” 

“ Oh, aye! wrap it up in the right way,” said 
Sapt, hauling a great pipe out of his pocket. 

“ Enough, sire,” said I. “ I’ll leave Ruritania 
to-day.” 

“ Now, by thunder, you shan’t — and that’s sans 
phrase, as Sapt likes it. For you shall dine witH 


A MERRY EVENING. 


3 ? 


me to-night, happen what will afterward. Come^ 
man, you don’t meet a new relation every 
day!” 

We dine sparingly to-night,” said Fritz von 
Tarlenheim. 

Not we — with our new cousin for a guest! 
cried the king; and as Fritz shrugged his shoulders^ 
he added: ‘‘Oh! I’ll remember our early starts 
Fritz.” 

“ So will I — to-morrow morning,” said old Sapt, 
pulling at his pipe. 

“ Oh, -wise old Sapt! ” cried the king. “ ComCp 
Mr. Rassendyll— by the way, what name did they 
give you? 

“ Your Majesty’s,” I answered, bowing. 

“ Well, that shows they weren’t ashamed of us/^ 
he laughed. “ Come, then, cousin Rudolf. I’ve 
got no house of my own here, but my dear brother 
Michael lends us a place of his, and we’ll make shift 
to entertain you there;” and he put his arm 
through mine, and signing to the others to ac- 
company us, walked me off, westerly, through the 
foresto 


38 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


We walked for more than half an hour, and the 
king smoked cigarettes and chattered incessantly. 
He was full of interest in my family, laughed heart- 
ily when I told him of the portraits with Elphberg 
hair in our galleries, and yet more heartily when he 
heard that my expedition to Ruritania was a secret 
one. 

“ You have to visit your disreputable cousin on 
the sly, have you? ” said he. 

Suddenly emerging from the wood, we came on 
a small and rude shooting lodge. It was a one- 
story building, a sort of bungalow, built entirely of 
wood. As we approached it, a little man in a plain 
livery came out to meet us. The only other per- 
son I saw about the place was a fat elderly woman, 
whom I afterward discovered to be the mother of 
Johann, the duke’s keeper. 

“ Well, is dinner ready, Josef? ” asked the 
king. 

The little servant informed us that it was, and we 
soon sat down to a plentiful meal. The fare was 
plain enough: the king ate heartily, Fritz von Tar- 
lenheim delicately, old Sapt voraciously. I played 


A MERRY EVENING. 


39 


a good knife and fork, as my custom is; the king 
noticed my performance with approval. 

We’re all good trenchermen, we Elphbergs/^ 
said he. ‘‘But what? — we’re eating dry! Wine, 
Josef! wine, man! Are we beasts, to eat without 
drinking? Are we cattle, Josef? ” 

At this reproof Josef hastened to load the table 
with bottles. 

“ Remember to-morrow! ” said Fritz. 

“Aye — to-morrow!” said old Sapt. 

The king drained a bumper to his “ Cousin 
Rudolf,” as he was gracious — or merry — enough 
to call me ; and I drank its fellow to the “ Elphberg 
red,” whereat he laughed loudly. 

Now, be the meat what it might, the wine we 
drank was beyond all price or praise, and we did it 
justice. Fritz ventured once to stay the king’s 
hand. 

“ What? ” cried the king. “ Remember you 
start before I do, Master Fritz — ^you must be more 
sparing by two hours than I.” 

Fritz saw that I did not understand. 

“ The colonel and I,” he explained, “ leave here 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


4 ^ 

at six; we ride down to Zenda and return with the 
guard of honor to fetch the king at eight, and then 
we all ride together to the station.” 

Hang that same guard! ” growled Sapt. 

^^Oh! it’s very civil of my brother to ask the 
honor for his regiment,” said the king. Come, 
cousin, you need not start early. Another oOttle, 
man! ” 

I had another bottle — or, rather, a part of one, 
for the larger half traveled quickly down his 
Majesty’s throat. Fritz gave up his attempts at 
persuasion: from persuading he fell to being per» 
suaded, and soon we were all of us as full of wine as 
we had any right to be. The king began talking of 
what he would do in the future, old Sapt of what he 
had done in the past, Fritz of some beautiful girl or 
other, and I of the wonderful merits of the Elph- 
berg dynasty. We all talked at once, and followed 
to the letter Sapt’s exhortation to let the morrow 
take care of itself. 

At last the king set down his glass and leaned 
back in his chair. 


I have drunk enough,” said he. 


A MERRY EVENING. 


41 


Far be it from me to contradict the king/’ 
said I. 

Indeed, his remark was most absolutely true— 
so far as it went. 

While I yet spoke Josef came and set before the 
king a marvelous old wicker-covered flagon. It 
had lain so long in some darkened cellar that it 
seemed to blink in the candlelight. 

His Highness the Duke of Strelsau bade me 
set this wine before the king when the king was 
weary of all other wines, and pray the king to drink 
for the love that he bears his brother.” 

'‘Well done, Black Michael!” said the king. 

Out with the cork, Josef. Hang him! Did he 
think rd flinch from his bottle? ” 

The bottle was opened, and Josef filled the king’s 
glass. The king tasted it. Then, with a solemnity 
born of the hour and his own condition, he looked 
round on us. 

" Gentlemen, my friends — Rudolf, my cousin 
(’tis a scandalous story, Rudolf, on my honor!) — = 
evrything is yours, to the hah of Ruritania. But 
ask me not for a single drop of this divine bottle. 


4 * 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


which I will drink to the health of that — that sly 
knave, :ny brother, Black Michael.” 

And the king seized the bottle and turned it over 
his mouth, and drained it and flung it from him, 
and laid his head on his arms on the table. 

And we drank pleasant dreams to his Majesty — ' 
and that is all I remember of the evening. Per- 
haps it is enough. 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE KING KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT. 

Whether I had slept a minute or a year I knew 
not. I awoke with a start and a shiver; my face, 
hair, and clothes dripped water, and opposite me 
stood old Sapt, a sneering smile on his face and an 
empty bucket in his hand. On the table by him 
sat Fritz von Tarlenheim, pale as a ghost and black 
as a crow under the eyes. 

I leaped to my feet in anger. 

“ Your joke goes too far, sir! ” I cried. 

“ Tut, man, we’ve no time for quarreling. Noth- 
ing else would rouse you. It’s five o’clock.” 

“ I’ll thank you. Colonel Sapt ” I began 

again, hot in spirit, though I was uncommonly cold 
in body. 

“ Rassendyll,” interrupted Fritz, getting down 
from the table and taking my arm, " look here.” 

The king lay full length on the floor. His face 

43 


44 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


was as red as his hair, and he breathed heavilyo 
Sapt, the disrespectful old dog, kicked him sharply. 
He did not stir, nor was there any break in his 
breathing. I saw that his face and head were wet 
with water, as were mine. 

'' WeVe spent half an hour on him,” said Fritz. 

He drank three times what either of you did,” 
growled Sapt. 

I knelt down and felt his pulse. It was alarm- 
ingly languid and slow. We three looked at one 
another. 

“ Was it drugged — that last bottle? ” I asked in 
a whisper. 

I don’t know,” said Sapt. 

We must get a doctor.” 

There’s none within ten miles, and a thousand 
doctors wouldn’t take him to Strelsau to-day. I 
know the look of it. He’ll not move for six or 
seven hours yet.” 

'' But the coronation! ” I cried in horror. 

Fritz shrugged his shoulders, as I began to see 
was his habit on most occasions. 

We must send word that he’s ill,” he said. 


THE KING KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT. 


45 


I suppose so/’ said I. 

Old Sapt, who seemed as fresh as a daisy, had lit 
his pipe and was puffing hard at it. 

If he’s not crowned to-day,” said he, I’ll lay a 
crown he’s never crowned.” 

‘‘ But, Heavens, why? ” 

‘‘ The whole nation’s there to meet him; half the 
army — aye, and Black Michael at the head. Shall 
we send word that the king’s drunk? ” 

That he’s ill,” said I, in correction. 

‘'111!” echoed Sapt, with a scornful laugh. 
“ They know his illnesses too well. He’s been 
‘ ill ’ before! ” 

“ Well, we must chance what they think,” said 
Fritz helplessly. “ I’ll carry the news and make 
the best of it.” 

Sapf raised his hand. 

“ Tell me,” said he: “ do you think the king was 
drugged? ” 

“ I do,” said I. 

“ And who drugged him? ” 

“ That damned hound. Black Michael,” said 
Fritz between his teeth. 


46 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


“ Aye,” said Sapt, “ that he might not come to 
be crowned. Rassendyll here doesn’t know our 
pretty Michael. What think you, Fritz — has 
Michael no king ready? Has half Strelsau no 
other candidate? As God’s alive, man, the throne’s 
lost if the king show himself not in Strelsau to- 
day. I know Black Michael.” 

“ We could carry him there,” said I. 

“ And a very pretty picture he makes,” sneered 
Sapt. 

Fritz von Tarlenheim buried his face in his hands. 
The king breathed loudly and heavily. Sapt 
stirred him again with his foot. 

” The drunken dog! ” he said. “ But he’s an 
Elphberg and the son of his father, and may I rot 
in hell before Black Michael sits in his place ! ” 

For a moment or two we were all silent; then 
Sapt, knitting his bushy gray brows, took his pipe 
from his mouth and said to me: 

“ As a man grows old he believes in Fate. Fate 
sent you here. Fate sends you now to Strelsau.” 

I staggered back, murmuring, “ Good God! ” 

Fritz looked up with an eager, bewildered gaze. 


THE KING KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT 


47 


Impossible! ’’ I murmured. I should be 
known.’^ 

It^s a risk — against a certainty,” said Sapt. 
If you shave Til wager you’ll not be known. Are 
you afraid? ” 

Sir!” 

Come, lad, there, there; but it’s your life, you 
know, if you’re known — and mine — and Fritz’s 
here. But if you don’t go I swear to you Black 
Michael will sit to-night on the throne, and the 
king lie in prison or his grave.” 

The king would never forgive it,” I stammered. 

Are we women? Who cares for his forgive- 
ness? ” 

The clock ticked fifty times, and sixty and 
seventy times, as I stood in thought. Then I sup- 
pose a look came over my face, for old Sapt caught 
me by the hand, crying: 

You’ll go? ” 

Yes, I’ll go,” said I, and I turned my eyes on 
the prostrate figure of the king on the floor. 

‘‘ To-night,” Sapt went on in a hasty whisper, 
we are to lodge in the palace. The moment they 


48 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


leave us you and I will mount our horses — Fritz 
must stay here and guard the king’s room — and 
ride here at a gallop. The king will be ready — 
Josef will tell him^ — and he must ride back with me 
to Strelsau, and you ride as if the devil were be- 
hind you to the frontier.” 

I took it all in in a second, and nodded my 
head. 

“ There’s a chance,” said Fritz, with his first sign 
of hopefulness. 

“ If I escape detection,” said I. 

“ If we’re detected,” said Sapt, “ I’ll send Black 
Michael down below before I go myself, so help 
me Heaven! Sit in that chair, man.” 

I obeyed him. 

He darted from the room, calling, “Josef! 
Josef! ” In three minutes he was back, and Josef 
with him. The latter carried a jug of hot water, 
soap, and razors. He was trembling as Sapt 
told him how the land lay, and bade him shave 
me. 

Suddenly Fritz smote on hi.^ thigh: 

“ But the guard! They’ll know! they’ll know!” 


THE KING KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT. 


49 


“ Pooh! We shan’t wait for the guard. We’ll 
ride to Hofban and catch a train there. When 
they come the bird ’ll be flown.” 

“ But the king? ” 

“ The king will be in the wine cellar. I’m going 
to carry him there now.” 

“ If they find him? ” 

“They won’t. How should they? Josef will 
put them off.” 

“ But ” 

Sapt stamped his foot. 

“We’re not playing,” he roared. “My God! 
don’t I know the risk? If they do find him he’s 
no worse off than if he isn’t crowned to-day in 
Strelsau.” 

So speaking, he flung the door open and, stoop- 
ing, put forth a strength I did not dream he had, 
and lifted the king in his hands. And as he did so 
the old woman, Johann the keeper’s mother, stood 
in the doorway. For a moment she stood, then 
she turned on her heel, without a sign of surprise, 
and clattered down the passage. 

“ Has she heard? ” cried Fritz. 


so 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


“ I’ll shut her mouth! ” said Sapt grimly, and he 
bore off the king in his arms. 

For me, I sat down in an armchair, and as I sat 
there, half dazed, Josef clipped and scraped me till 
my mustache and imperial were things of the past 
and my face was as bare as the king’s. And when 
Fritz saw me thus he drew a long breath and ex- 
claimed: 

“ By Jove, we shall do it! ” 

It was six o’clock now, and we had no time to 
lose. Sapt hurried me into the king’s room, and I 
dressed myself in the uniform of a colonel of the 
Guard, finding time, as I slipped on the king’s 
boots, to ask Sapt what he had done with the old 
woman. 

“ She swore she’d heard nothing,” said he; “ but 
to make sure I tied her legs together and put a 
handkerchief in her mouth and bound her hands, 
and locked her up in the coal cellar, next door to 
the king. Josef ’ll look after them both, later on.” 

■ Then I burst out laughing, and even old Sapt 
grimly smiled. 

“ I fancy,” said he, “ that when Josef tells them 


THE KING KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT, 5 ^ 

the king is gone they’ll think it is because we smelt 
a rat. For you may swear Black Michael doesn’t 
expect to see him in Strelsau to-day.” 

I put the king’s helmet on my head. Old Sapt 
handed me the king’s sword, looking at me long 
and carefully. 

Thank God, he shaved his beard!” he ex- 
claimed. 

‘‘Why did he?” I asked. 

“ Because Princess Flavia said he grazed her 
cheek when he was graciously pleased to give her a 
cousinly kiss. Come, though, we must ride.” 

“ Is all safe here? ” 

“ Nothing’s safe anywhere,” said Sapt, “ but we 
can make it no safer.” 

Fritz now rejoined us in the uniform of a captain 
in the same regiment as that to which my dress be- 
longed. In four minutes Sapt had arrayed himself 
in his uniform. Josef called that the horses were 
ready. We jumped on their backs and started at 
a rapid trot. The game had begun. What would 
the issue of it be? 

The cool morning air cleared my head, and I was 


5 * 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


able to take in all Sapt said to me. He was won- 
derful. Fritz Hardly spoke, riding like a man 
asleep; but Sapt, without another word for the king, 
began at once to instruct me most minutely in the 
history of my past life, of my family, of my tastes, 
pursuits, weaknesses, friends, companions, and 
servants. He told me the etiquette of the Ruri- 
tanian court, promising to be constantly at my 
elbow to point out everybody whom I ought to 
know, and give me hints with what degree of favor 
to greet them. 

“ By the way,” he said, “ you are a Catholic, I 
suppose? ” 

“ Not I,” I answered. 

“ Lord, he’s a heretic! ” groaned Sapt, and forth- 
with he fell to a rudimentary lesson in the practices 
and observances of the Romish faith. 

“ Luckily,” said he, “ you won’t be expected to 
know much, for the king’s notoriously lax and care- 
less about such matters. But you must be as civil 
as butter to the cardinal. We hope to win him 
over, because he and Michael have a standing quar- 
rel about their precedence” 


THE KING KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT. 


S3 


We were by now at the station. Fritz had re- 
covered nerve enough to explain to the astonished 
station master that the king had changed his plans. 
The train steamed up. We got into a first-class 
carriage, and Sapt, leaning back on the cushions, 
went on with his lesson. I looked at my watch— 
the king’s watch it was, of course. It was just 
eight. 

I wonder if they’ve gone to look for us,” I said. 

I hope they won’t find the king,” said Fritz 
nervously, and this time it was Sapt who shrugged 
his shoulders. 

The train traveled well, and at half-past nine, 
looking out of the window, I saw the towers and 
spires of a great city. 

‘‘ Your capital, my liege,” grinned old Sapt, with 
a wave of his hand, and, leaning forward, he laid his 
finger on my pulse. “ A little too quick,” said he 
in his grumbling tone. 

I’m not made of stone! ” I exclaimed. 

You’ll do,” said he, with a nod. We must 
say Fritz here has caught the ague. Drain yoTO 
flask, Fritz, for Heaven’s sake, boy! ” 


54 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


Fritz did as he was bid. 

“ We’re an hour early,” said Sapt. “ We’ll send 
word forward of your Majesty’s arrival, for there’ll 
be no one here to meet us yet. And mean- 
while ” 

“ Meanwhile,” said I, “ the king ’ll be hanged if 
he doesn’t have some breakfast.” 

Old Sapt chuckled, and held out his hand. 

“ You’re an Elphberg, every inch of you,” said 
he. Then he paused, and looking at us, said 
quietly, “ God send we may be alive to-night ! ” 

“ Amen! ” said Fritz von Tarlenheim. 

The train stopped. Fritz and Sapt leaped out, 
uncovered, and held the door for me. I choked 
down a lump that rose in my throat, settled my 
helmet firmly on my head, and (I’m not ashamed 
to say it) breathed a short prayer to God. Then I 
stepped on the platform of the station at Strelsau. 

A moment later all was bustle and confusion: 
men hurrying up, hats in hand, and hurrying off 
again; men conducting me to the buffet; men 
mounting and riding in hot haste to the quarters 
of the troops, to the cathedral, to the residence of 


THE KING KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT. 


55 


Duke Michael. Even as I swallowed the last drop 
of my cup of coffee the bells throughout all the 
city broke out into a joyful peal, and the sound of 
a military band and of men cheering smote upon 
my ear. 

King Rudolf the Fifth was in his good city of 
Strelsau! And they shouted outside: 

“ God save the king! ” 

Old Sapt’s mouth wrinkled into a smile. 

“ God save ’em both I ” he whispered. “ Couff'^ 
age, lad! ” and I felt his hand press my knee. 


CHAPTER V. 


THE ADVENTURES OF AN UNDERSTUDY, 

With Fritz von Tarlenheim and Colonel Sapt 
close behind me I stepped out of the buifet on to 
the platform. The last thing I did was to feel if 
my revolver were handy and my sword loose in the 
scabbard. A gay group of officers and high dig- 
nitaries stood waiting me, at their head a tall old 
man, covered with medals, and of military bearing. 
He wore the yellow and red ribbon of the Red 
Rose of Ruritania — ^which, by the way, decorated 
my unworthy breast also. 

“ Marshal Strakencz,” whispered Sapt, and I 
knew that I was in the presence of the most famous 
veteran of the Ruritanian army. 

Just behind the marshal stood a short, spare 
man, in flowing robes of black and crimson. 

“ The chancellor of the kingdom,” whispered 
Sapt. 


S6 


THE ADVENTURES OF AN UNDERSTUDY. S? 

The marshal greeted me in a few loyal words, 
and proceeded to deliver an apology from the 
Duke of Strelsau. The duke, it seemed, had been 
afflicted with a sudden indisposition which made it 
impossible for him to come to the station, but he 
craved leave to await his Majesty at the cathedral. 
I expressed my concern, accepted the marshal’s 
excuses very suavely, and received the compli- 
ments of a large number of distinguished person- 
ages. No one betrayed the least suspicion, and I 
felt my nerve returning and the agitated beating of 
my heart subsiding. But Fritz was still pale, and 
his hand shook like a leaf as he extended it to the 
marshal. 

Presently we formed procession and took our 
way to the door of the station. Here I mounted 
my horse, the marshal holding my stirrup. The 
civil dignitaries went off to their carriages, and I 
started to ride through the streets with the marshal 
on my right and Sapt (who, as my chief aid-de- 
camp, was entitled to the place) on my left. The 
city of Strelsau is partly old and partly new. Spa- 
cious modem boulevards and residential quartern 


58 THE PR WNER OF ZENDA. 

surround and embrace the narrow, tortuous, and 
picturesque streets of the original town. In the 
outer circles the upper classes live ; in the inner the 
shops are situated; and behind their prosperous 
fronts lie hidden populous but wretched lanes and 
alleys, filled with a poverty-stricken, turbulent, and 
(in large measure) criminal class. These social 
and local divisions corresponded, as I knew from 
Sapt’s information, to another division more im- 
portant to me. The New Town was for the king; 
but to the Old Town Michael of Strelsau was a 
hope, a hero, and a darling. 

The scene was very brilliant as we passed along 
the Grand Boulevard and on to the great square 
where the royal palace stood. Here I was in the 
midst of my devoted adherents. Every house was 
hung with red and bedecked with flags and mot- 
toes. The streets were lined with raised seats on 
each side, and I passed along, bowing this way and 
that, under a shower of cheers, blessings, and wav- 
ing handkerchiefs. The balconies were full of 
gayly dressed ladies, who clapped their hands and 
courtesied and threw their brightest glances at me. 


THE ADl^ENTURES OF AN UNDERSTUDY. 59 

A torrent of red roses fell on me; one bloom lodged 
in my horse’s mane, and I took it and stuck it in 
my coat. The marshal smiled grimly. I had 
stolen some glances at his face, but he was too im- 
passive to show me whether his sympathies were 
with me or not. 

‘‘ The red rose for the Elphbergs, marshal,” said 
I gayly, and he nodded. 

I have written gayly/’ and a strange word it 
must seem. But the truth is that I was drunk with 
excitement. At that moment I believed — I al- 
most believed — that I was in very truth the king; 
and, with a look of laughing triumph, I raised my 
eyes to the beauty-laden balconies again . . . and 
then I started. For looking down on me, with heSf 
handsome face and proud smile, was the lady who 
had been my fellow-traveler — ^Antoinette de Alau- 
ban; and I saw her also start, and her lips moved, 
and she leaned forward and gazed at me. And I, 
collecting myself, met her eyes full and square, 
while again I felt my revolver. Suppose she had 
cried aloud, '' That’s not the king! ” 

Well, wc went by; and then the marshal, turn- 


6o 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


ing round in his saddle, waved his hand, and the 
Cuirassiers closed round us, so that the crowd 
could not come near me. We were leaving my 
quarter and entering Duke Michael’s, and this 
action of the marshal’s showed me more clearly 
than words what the state of feeling in the town 
must be. But if Fate made me a king the least I 
could do was to play the part handsomely. 

“ Why this change in our order, marshal? ” 
said I. 

The marshal bit his white mustache. 

“ It is more prudent, sire,” he murmured. 

I drew rein. 

“ Let those in front ride on,” said I, “ till they 
are fifty yards ahead. But do you, marshal, and 
Colonel Sapt and my friends wait here till I have 
ridden fifty yards. And see that no one is nearer 
to me. I will have my people see that their king 
trusts them.” 

Sapt laid his hand on my arm. I shook him off. 
The marshal hesitated. 

“ Am I not understood? ” said I; and, biting his 
mustache again, he gave the orders. I saw old 


THE ADVENTURES OF AN UNDERSTUDY. <5i 

Sapt smiling into his beard, but he shook his head 
at me. If I had been killed in open day in the 
streets of Streslau Sapt’s position would have been 
a difficult one. 

Perhaps I ought to say that I was dressed all in 
white, except my boots. I wore a silver helmet 
with gilt ornaments, and the broad ribbon of the 
Rose looked well across my chest. I should be 
paying a poor compliment to the king if I did not 
set modesty aside and admit that I made a very 
fine figure. So the people thought; for when I, 
riding alone, entered the dingy, sparsely deco- 
rated, somber streets of the Old Town there was 
first a murmur, then a cheer, and a woman, from a 
window above a cookshop, cried the old local 
saying: 

“ If he’s red he’s right! ” whereat I laughed and 
took off my helmet that she might see that I was 
of the right color, and they cheered me again at 
that. 

It was more interesting riding thus alone, for I 
heard the comments of the crowd. 

“ He looks paler than his wont,” said one. 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA, 


“ You’d look pale if you lived as he did,” was 
the highly disrespectful retort. 

“ He’s a bigger man than I thought,” said an- 
other. 

“ So he had a good jaw under that beard after 
all,” commented a third. 

“ The pictures of him aren’t handsome enough,*’ 
declared a pretty girl, taking great care that I 
should hear. No doubt it was mere flattery. 

But in spite of these signs of approval and 
interest the mass of the people received me in si- 
lence and w'ith sullen looks, and my dear brother’s 
portrait ornamented most of the windows — which 
was an ironical sort of greeting to the king. I was 
quite glad that he had been spared the unpleasant 
sight. He was a man of quick temper, and per- 
haps he would not have taken it so placidly as I 
did. 

At last we were at the cathedral. Its great gi*ay 
front, embellished with hundreds of statues and 
boasting a pair of the finest oak doors in Europe^ 
rose for the first time before me, and the sudden 
sense of my audacity almost overcame me. Every= 


THE ADVENTURES OF AN UNDERSTUDY. 63 

thing was in a mist as I dismounted. I saw the 
marshal and Sapt dimly, and dimly the throng of 
gorgeously robed priests who awaited me. And 
my eyes were still dim as I walked up the great 
nave, with the pealing of the organ in my ears. I 
saw nothing of the brilliant throng that filled it; I 
hardly distinguished the stately figure of the cardi- 
nal as he rose from the archiepiscopal throne to 
greet me. Two faces only stood out side by side 
clearly before my eyes — the face of a girl, pale and 
lovely, surmounted by a crown of the glorious 
Elphberg hair (for in a woman it is glorious), and 
the face of a man whose full-blooded red cheeks, 
black hair, and dark, deep eyes told me that at last 
I was in the presence of my brother. Black Michael, 
And when he saw me his red cheeks went pale all 
in a moment, and his helmet fell with a clatter on 
the floor. Till that moment I believe that he had 
not realized that the king was in very truth come 
to Strelsau. 

Of what followed next I remember nothing. I 
knelt before the altar and the cardinal anointed my 
head. Then I rose to my feet, and stretched out 


04 


THE PRISONER Of ZENDA. 


my hana and took from him the crown of Ruritania 
and set it on my head, and I swore the old oath of 
the king; and (if it were a sin, .may it be forgiven 
me) I received the Holy Sacrament there before 
them all. Then the great organ pealed out again, 
the marshal bade the heralds proclaim me, and Ru- 
dolf the Fifth was crowned king; of which impos- 
ing ceremony an excellent picture hangs now in 
my dining room. The portrait of the king is very 
good. 

Then the lady with the pale face and the glorious 
hair, her train held by two pages, stepped from her 
place and came to where I stood. And a herald 
cried : 

Her Royal Highness the Princess Flavia! 

She courtesied low, and put her hand under 
mine and raised my hand and kissed it. And for 
an instant I thought what I had best do. Then I 
drew her to me and kissed her twice on the cheek, 
and she blushed red, and — why, then his Eminence 
the Cardinal Archbishop slipped in front of Black 
Michael, and kissed my hand and presented me 
with a letter from the Pope — the first and las^ 


THE ADVENTURES OF AN UNDERSTUDY. 6$ 

which I have ever received from that exalted 
quarter! 

And then came the Duke of Strelsac. His step 
trembled, I swear, and he looked to the right and 
to the left, as a man looks who thinks on flight ; and 
his face was patched with red and white, and his 
hand shook so that it jumped under mine, and I 
felt his lips dry and parched. And I glanced at 
Sapt, who was smiling again into his beard, and, 
resolutely doing my duty in .'hat station of life to 
which I had been marveloudy called, I took my 
dear Michael by both hands and kissed him on the 
cheek. I think we were both glad v/hen that tviis 
over! 

But neither in the face of the princess nor in that 
of any other did I see the least doubt or question- 
ing. Yet had I and the king stood side by side 
they could have told us in an instant, or, at least, 
Oil a little consideration. But neither they nor 
anyone else dreamed or imagined that I could be 
other than the king. So the likeness served, and 
for an hour I stood there, feeling as weary and hlas6 
as though I had been a king all my life; and every< 


66 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA, 


body kissed my hand, and the ambassadors paid 
me their respects, among them old Lord Topham, 
at whose house in Grosvenor Square I had danced 
a score of times. Thank Heaven, the old man was 
as blind as a bat, and did not claim my acquaint- 
ance. 

Then back we went through the streets to the 
palace, and I heard them cheering Black Michael; 
but he, Fritz told me, sat biting his nails like a man 
in a reverie, and even his own friends said that he 
should have made a braver show. I was in a car- 
riage now, side by side with the princess Flavia^ 
and a rough fellow cried out: 

And when’s the wedding? ” and as he spoke 
another struck him in the face, crying, Long live 
Duke Michael! ” and the princess colored — it was 
an admirable tint — and looked straight in front of 
her. 

Now I felt in a difficulty, because I had forgot- 
ten to ask Sapt the state of my affections, or how 
far matters had gone between the princess and my- 
self. Frankly, had I been the king the further they 
bad gone the better should I have been pleasedc 


THE ADVENTURES OF AN UNDERSTUDY. 67 

For I am not a slow-blooded man, and I had not 
kissed Princess Flavians cheek for nothing. These 
thoughts passed through my head, but, not being 
sure of my ground, I said nothing; and in a mo- 
ment or two the princess, recovering her equa- 
nimity, turned to me. 

Do you know, Rudolf,’’ said she, you look 
somehow different to-day? ” 

The fact was not surprising, but the remark was 
disquieting. 

You look,” she went on, more sober, more 
sedate; you’re almost careworn, and I declare 
you’re thinner. Surely it’s not possible that 
you’ve begun to take anything seriously? ” 

The princess seemed to hold of the king much 
the same opinion that Lady Burlesdon held of 
me. 

I braced myself up to the conversation. 

Would that please you? ” I asked softly. 

'' Oh, you know my views,” said she, turning her 
eyes away. 

Whatever pleases you I try to do,” I said; and 
as I saw her smile and blush I thought that I was 


68 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


playing the king’s hand- very well for him. So I 
continued, and what I said was perfectly true: 

“ I assure you, my dear cousin, that nothing in 
my life has affected me more than the reception 
I’ve been greeted with to-day.” 

She smiled brightly, but in an instant grew grave 
again, and whispered: 

“ Did you notice Michael? ” 

“Yes,” said I; adding, “He wasn’t enjoying 
himself.” 

“Do be careful!” she went on. “You don’t 
— indeed you don’t — keep enough watch on him. 
You know ” 

“ I know,” said I, “ that he wants what I’ve 
got.” 

“Yes. Hush!” 

Then — and I can’t justify it, for I committed the 
king far beyond what I had a right to do — I sup- 
pose she carried me off my feet — I went on: 

“ And, perhaps, also something which I haven’t 
got yet, but hope to win some day.” 

This was my answer — had I been the king I 
should have thought it encouraging: 


THE ADVENTURES OF AN UNDERSTUDY, 69 

Haven’t you enough responsibilities on you 
for one day, cousin?” 

Bang, bang! Blare, blare! We were at the 
palace. Guns were firing and trumpets blowing. 
Rows of lackeys stood waiting, and, handing the 
princess up the broad marble staircase, I took for- 
mal possession, as a crowned king, of the house of 
my ancestors, and sat down at my own table, with 
my cousin on my right hand, on her other side 
Black Michael, and on my left his Eminence the 
Cardinal. Behind my chair stood Sapt; and at the 
end of the table I saw Fritz von Tarlenheim drain 
to the bottom his glass of champagne rather 
sooner than he decently should. 

I wondered what the King of Ruritania was 
doing. 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE SECRET OF A CELLAR. 

We were in the king’s dressing room — Fritz von 
Tarlenheim, Sapt, and I. I flung myself ex- 
hausted into an armchair. Sapt lit his pipe. He 
uttered no congratulations on the marvelous suc- 
cess of our wild risk, but his whole bearing was elo- 
quent of satisfaction. The triumph, aided perhaps 
by good wine, had made a new man of Fritz. 

'' What a day for you to remember! ” he cried. 

Gad, rd like to be a king for twelve hours my- 
self! But, Rassendyll, you mustn’t throw your 
heart too much into the part. I don’t wonder 
Black Michael-looked blacker than ever — you and 
the princess had so much to say to one another,” 
How beautiful she is! ” I exclaimed. 

Never mind the woman,” growled Sapt. 

Are you ready to start? ” 

Yes,” said I, with a sigh. 

It was five o’clock, and at twelve I should be no 


70 


THE SECRET OF A CELLAR, n 

more than Rudolf Rassendyll. I remarked on it 
in a joking tone. 

‘'You’ll be lucky/’ observed Sapt grimly, “if 
you’re not the late Rudolf Rassendyll. By 
Heaven! I feel my head wobbling on my shoul- 
ders every minute you’re in the city. Do you 
know, friend, that Michael has had news from 
Zenda? He went into a room alone to read it — » 
and he came out looking like a man dazed.” 

“ I’m ready,” said I, this news making me none 
the more eager to linger. 

Sapt sat down. 

“ I must write us an order to leave the city. 
Michael’s governor, you know, and we must be 
prepared for hindrances. You must sign the 
order.” 

“ My dear colonel. I’ve not been bred a forger! ” 

Out of his pocket Sapt produced a piece of 
paper. 

“ There’s the king’s signature,” he said, “ and 
here,” he went on, after another search in his 
pocket, “ is some tracing paper. If you can’t man- 
age a ‘ Rudolf ’ in ten minutes, why — I can.” 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


la 

“ Your education has been more comprehensive 
than mine,” said 1. “ You write it.” 

And a very tolerable forgery did this versatile 
hero produce. 

“ Now, Fritz,” said he, “ the king goes to bed. 
He is upset. No one is to see him till nine o’clock 
to-morrow. You understand — no one? ” 

“ I understand,” answered Fritz. 

“ Michael may come, and claim immediate au- 
dience. You’ll answer that only princes of the 
blood are entitled to it.” 

“ That ’ll annoy Michael,” laughed Fritz. 

“You quite understand?” asked Sapt again. 
“ If the door of this room is opened while we’re 
away you’re not to be alive to tell us about it.” 

“ I need no schooling, colonel,” said Fritz, a 
trifle haughtily. 

“ Here, wrap yourself in this big cloak,” Sapt 
continued to me, “ and put on this flat cap. My 
orderly rides with me to the shooting lodge to- 
night.” 

“ There’s an obstacle,” I observed. “ The horse 
doesn’t live that can carry me forty miles.” 


THE SECRET OF A CELLAR. 


73 


Oh, yes, he does — two of him : one here — one 
at the lodge. Now are you ready? ’’ 

“ Tm ready, said I. 

Fritz held out his hand. 

In case,’’ said he; and we shook hands heartily. 
Damn your sentiment!” growled Sapt. 

Come along.” 

He went, not to the door, but to a panel in the 
wall. 

“ In the old king’s time,” said he, I knew this 
way well.” 

I followed him, and we walked, as I should esti- 
mate, near two hundred yards along a narrow pass- 
age. Then we came to a stout oak door. Sapt 
unlocked it. We passed through, and found our- 
selves in a quiet street that ran along the back of 
the palace gardens. A man was waiting for us 
with two horses. One was a magnificent bay, up 
to any weight; the other a sturdy brown. Sapt 
signed to me to mount the bay. Without a word 
to the man we mounted and rode away. The town 
was full of noise and merriment, but we took se- 
cluded ways. My cloak was wrapped over half my 


74 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


face; the capacious flat cap hid every lock of my 
telltale hair. By Sapt's directions I crouched on 
my saddle, and rode with such a round back as I 
hope never to exhibit on a horse again. Down a 
long, narrow lane we went, meeting some wan- 
derers and some roisterers; and as we rode we 
heard the cathedral bells still clanging out their 
welcome to the king. It was half-past six, and still 
light. At last we came to the city wall and to a 
gate. 

Have your weapon ready,” whispered Sapt. 

We must stop his mouth if he talks.” 

I put my hand on my revolver. Sapt hailed the 
doorkeeper. The stars fought for us! A little 
girl of fourteen tripped out. 

'' Please, sir, father’s gone to see the king.” 

'' He’d better have stayed here,” said Sapt to 
me, grinning. 

But he said I wasn’t to open the gate, sir.” 

Did he, my dear? ” said Sapt, dismounting. 

Then give me the key.” 

The key was in the child’s hand. Sapt gave her 


a crown. 


THE SECRET OF A CELLAR. 


7S 


Here’s an order from the king. Show it to 
your father. Orderly, open the gate! ” 

I leaped down. Between us we rolled back the 
great gate, led our horses out, and closed it again. 

I shall be sorry for the doorkeeper if Michael 
finds out that he wasn’t there. Now, then, lad, for 
a canter. We mustn’t go too fast while we’re near 
the town.” 

Once, however, outside the city we ran little 
danger, for everybody else was inside, merry-mak- 
ing; and as the evening fell we quickened our pace, 
my splendid horse bounding along under me as 
though I had been a feather. It was a fine night, 
and presently the moon appeared. We talked 
little on the way, and chiefly about the progress we 
were making. 

I wonder what the duke’s dispatches told 
him! ” said I, once. 

''Aye, I wonder!” responded Sapt. 

We stopped for a draught of wine and to bait 
our horses, losing half an hour thus. I dared not 
go into the inn, and stayed with the horses in the 
stable. Then we went ahead again, and had cov- 


^6 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


ered some five-and-twenty miles when Sapt 
abruptly stopped. 

“ Hark! ” he cried. 

I listened. Away, far behind us, in the still of 
the evening — it was just half-past nine — we heard 
the beat of horses’ hoofs. The wind, blowing 
strong behind us, carried the sound. I glanced at 
Sapt. 

“Come on!” he cried, and spurred his horse 
into a gallop. When we next paused to listen the 
hoof-beats were not audible, and we relaxed our 
pace. Then we heard them again. Sapt jumped 
down and laid his ear to the ground. 

“ There are two,” he said. “ They’re only a 
mile behind. Thank God, the road curves in and 
out, and the wind’s our way.” 

We galloped on. We seemed to be holding our 
own. We had entered the outskirts of the forest 
of Zenda, and the ti*ees, closing in behind us as the 
\rack zigged and zagged, prevented us seeing our 
pursuers, and them from seeing us. 

Another half hour brought us to a divide of the 
road. Sapt drew rein. 


THE SECRET OF A CELLAR. 


77 


To the right is our road/’ he said. To left, 
to the castle. Each about eight miles. Get 
down.” 

But they’ll be on us! ” I cried. 

''Get down!” he repeated brusquely; and I 
obeyed. 

The wood was dense up to the very edge of the 
road. We led our horses into the covert, bound 
handkerchiefs over their eyes, and stood beside 
them. 

" You want to see who they are? ” I whispered. 

"Aye, and where they’re going,” he answered. 

I saw that his revolver was in his hand. 

Nearer and nearer came the hoofs. The moon 
shone out now clear and full, so that the road was 
white with it. The ground was hard and we had 
left no traces. 

" Here they come! ” whispered Sapt 

" It’s the duke! ” 

" I thought so ! ” he answered. 

It was the duke; and with him a burly fellow 
whom I knew well, and who had cause to know me 
afterward — Max Holf, brother to Johann the 


78 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


keeper, and body servant to his Highness. They 
were up to us; the duke reined up. I saw Sapt’s 
finger curl lovingly toward the trigger. I believe 
he would have given ten years of his life for a shot; 
and he could have picked off Black Michael as 
easily as I could a barn-door fowl in a farmyard. 
I laid my hand on his arm. He nodded reassur^ 
ingly; he was always ready to sacrifice inclination 
to duty. 

“ Which way? ” asked Black Michael. 

“To the castle, your Highness,” urged his com“ 
panion. “ There we shall learn the truth.” 

For an instant the duke hesitated. 

“ I thought I heard hoofs,” said he. 

“ I think not, your Highness.” 

“ Why shouldn’t. we go to the lodge? ” 

“ I fear a trap. If all is well, why go to the 
lodge? If not, it’s a snare to trap us.” 

Suddenly the duke’s horse neighed. In an in- 
stant we folded our cloaks close round our horses" 
heads, and, holding them thus, covered the duke 
and his attendant with our revolvers. If they had 
found us they had been dead men, or our prisonerSc 


THE SECRET OF A CELLAR, 


Michael waited a moment longer. Then he 
cried : 

‘‘To Zenda, then!’’ and setting spurs to his 
horse, galloped on. 

Sapt raised his weapon after him, and there was 
such an expression of wistful regret on his face that 
I had much ado not to burst out laughing. 

For ten minutes we stayed where we were. 

“You see,” said Sapt, “they’ve sent him news 
that all is well.” 

“ What does that mean? ” I asked. 

“ God knows,” said Sapt, frowning heavilyo 
“ But it’s brought him from Strelsau in a rare 
puzzle.” 

Then we mounted, and rode fast as our weary 
horses could lay their feet to the ground. For 
those last eight miles 'we spoke no more. Our 
minds were full of apprehension. “ All is well.” 
What did it mean? Was all well with the 
king? 

At last the lodge came in sight. Spurring our 
horses to a last gallop, we rode up to the gate. All 
was still and quiet. Not a soul came to meet us^ 


8o 


THE PRISONER OP ZENDA. 


We dismounted in haste. Suddenly Sapt caught 
me by the arm. 

Look here! ” he said, pointing to the ground. 

I looked down. At my feet lay five or six silk 
handkerchiefs, torn and slashed and rent. I turned 
to him questioningly. 

They’re what I tied the old woman up with,’’ 
said he. Fasten the horses and come along.” 

The handle of the door turned without resist- 
ance. We passed into the room which had been 
the scene of last night’s bout. It was still strewn 
with the remnants of our meal and with empty 
bottles, 

'' Come in,” cried Sapt, whose marvelous com- 
posure had at last almost given way. 

We rushed down the passage toward the cellarSo 
The door of the coal cellar stood wide open. 

They found the old woman,” said I. 

Y ou might have known that from the hand' 
kerchiefs,” he said. 

Then we came opposite the door of the wine 
cellar. It was shut. It looked in all respects as it 
had looked when we left it that morning. 


THE SECRET OF A CELLAR, 


3i 


Come, it’s all right,” said I. 

A loud oath from Sapt rang out. His face 
turned pale, and he pointed again at the floor. 
From under the door a red stain had spread over 
the floor of the passage and dried there. Sapt 
sank against the opposite wall. I tried the door. 
It was locked. 

Where’s Josef? ” muttered Sapt. 

‘‘ Where’s the king? ” I responded. 

Sapt took out a flask and put it to his lips. I 
ran back to the dining room, and seized a heavy 
poker from the fireplace. In my terror and ex- 
citement I rained blows on the lock of the door, 
and I fired a cartridge into it. It gave way, and 
the door swung open. 

Give me a light,” said I ; but Sapt still leaned 
against the wall. 

He was, of course, more moved than I, for he 
loved his master. Afraid for himself he was not — 
no man ever saw him that; but to think what might 
lie in that dark cellar was enough to turn any man’s 
face pale. I went myself, and took a silver candle- 
stick from the dining table and struck a light, and 


82 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


as I returned I felt the hot wax drip on my naked 
hand as the candle swayed to and fro; so that I can- 
not afford to despise Colonel Sapt for his agitation. 

I came to the door of the cellar. The red stain, 
turning more and more to a dull brown, stretched 
inside. I walked two yards into the cellar, and 
held the candle high above my head. I saw the 
full bins of wine; I saw spiders crawling on the 
walls ; I saw, too, a couple of empty bottles lying on 
the floor; and then, away in the corner, I saw the 
body of a man, lying flat on his back, with his arms 
stretched wide, and a crimson gash across his 
throat, I walked to him and knelt down beside 
him, and commended to God the soul of a faith- 
ful man. For it was the body of Josef, the little 
servant, slain in guarding the king. 

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turning, saw 
Sapt’s eyes, glaring and terror-struck, beside me. 

“ The king! My God! the king! ” he whispered 
hoarsely. 

I threw the candle’s gleam over every inch of the 
cellar. 

“ The king is not here,” said I. 


CHAPTER VII. 


HIS MAJESTY SLEEPS IN STRELSAU. 

I PUT my arm round Sapt's waist and supported 
him out of the cellar, drawing the battered door 
close after me. For ten minutes or more we sat 
silent in the dining room. Then old Sapt rubbed 
his knuckles into his eyes, gave one great gasp, and 
was himself again. As the clock on the mantel- 
piece struck one he stamped his foot on the floor, 
saying: 

‘‘ TheyVe got the king! ’’ 

‘‘ Yes,’’ said I, ^ all’s well! ’ as Black Michael’s 
dispatch said. What a moment it must have been 
for him when the royal salutes were fired at Strel- 
sau this morning! I wonder when he got the 
message? ” 

‘‘ It must have been sent in the morning,” said 
Sapt. They must have sent it before news of 
your arrival at Strelsau reached Zenda — I suppose 
it came from Zenda.” 

53 


84 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


“ And he’s carried it about all da}^ ” I exclaimed. 
■“ Upon my honor, I’m not the only man who’s had 
a trying day! What did he think, Sapt? ” 

“ What does that matter? What does he think, 
lad, now? ” 

I rose to my feet. 

“ We must get back,” I said, “ and rouse every 
soldier in Strelsau. We ought to be in pursuit of 
Michael before midday.” 

Old Sapt pulled out his pipe and carefully lit it 
from the candle which guttered on the table. 

“ The king may be murdered while we sit here! ” 
I urged. 

Sapt smoked on for a moment in silence. 

“ That cursed old woman ! ” he broke out. “ She 
must have attracted their attention somehow. I 
see the game. They came up to kidnap the king, 
and — as I say — somehow they found him. If you 
hadn’t gone to Strelsau, you and I and Fritz had 
been in heaven by now ! ” 

“ And the king? ” 

“ Who knows where the king is now? ” he asked. 

“ Come, let’s be off!” said I; but he sat still 


ms MAJESTY SLEEPS IN STRELSAU. *5 

And suddenly he burst into one of his grating 
chuckles : 

“ By Jove, we’ve shaken up Black Michael! ” 

“ Come, come ! ” I repeated impatiently. 

“ And we’ll shake him up a bit more,” he addedi, 
a cunning smile broadening on his wrinkledj, 
weather-beaten face and his teeth working on an 
end of his grizzled mustache. “ Aye, lad, we’ll go 
back to Strelsau. The king shall be in his capital 
again to-morrow.” 

“ The king? ” 

“ The crowned king! ” 

“ You’re mad! ” I cried. 

“ If we go back and tell the trick we played what 
would you give for our lives? ” 

“ Just what they’re worth,” said I. 

“ And for the king’s throne? Do you think that 
the nobles and the people will enjoy being fooled 
as you’ve fooled them? Do you think they’ll love 
a king who was too drunk to be crowned, and sent 
a servant to personate him? ” 

“ He was drugged — and I’m no servant.” 

“ Mine will be Black Michael’s version.” 


86 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


He rose, came to me, and laid his hand on my 
shoulder. 

Lad,’’ he said, '' if you play the man you may 
save the king yet. Go back and keep his throne 
warm for him.” 

But the duke knows — the villains he has em- 
ployed know ” 

^'Aye, but they can’t speak!” roared Sapt in 
grim triumph. We’ve got ’em! How can they 
denounce you without denouncing themselves? 

This is not the king, because we kidnaped the 
king and murdered his servant.’ Can they say 
that?” 

The position flashed on me. Whether Michael 
knew me or not he could not speak. Unless he 
produced the king, what could he do? And if he 
produced the king, where was he? For a moment 
I was carried away headlong; but in an instant the 
difficulties came strong upon me. 

I must be found out,” I urged. 

Perhaps; but every hour’s something. Above 
all, we must have a king in Strelsau, or the city will 
he Michael’s in four-and-twenty hours, and what 


HIS MAJESTY SLEEPS IN STRELSAU, 87 

would the king's life be worth then — or his throne? 
Lad, you must do it ! " 

Suppose they kill the king? " 

They'll kill him, if you don't." 

‘‘ Sapt, suppose they have killed the king ? " 

‘‘ Then, by Heaven, you're as good an Elphberg 
as Black Michael, and you shall reign in Ruritania ! 
But I don't believe they have; nor will they kill him 
if you're on the throne. Will they kill him to put 
you in ? " 

It was a wild plan — wilder even and more hope- 
less than the trick we had already carried through; 
but as I listened to Sapt I saw the strong points in 
our game. And then I was a young man and I 
loved action, and I was offered such a hand in such 
a game as perhaps never man played yet. 

I shall be found out," I said. 

‘‘Perhaps," said Sapt. “Come! to Strelsau! 
We shall be caught like rats in a trap if we stay 
here." 

“ Sapt," I cried, “ I'll try it!" 

“Well played!" said he. “I hope they've left 
us the horses. I'll go and see." 


88 


THE PRISONER Of ZENDA, 


We must bury that poor fellow/' said 1. 

No time/' said Sapt. 

I'll do it." 

“ Hang you ! " he grinned. I make you a 

king, and Well, do it. Go and fetch him, 

while I look to the horses. He can't lie very deep, 
but I doubt if he'll care about that. Poor little 
Josef! He was an honest bit of a man." 

He went out and I went to the cellar. I raised 
poor Josef in ray arms and bore him into the pas- 
sage and thence toward the door of the house. 
Just inside I laid him down, remembering that I 
must find spades for our task. At this instant Sapt 
came up. 

The horses are all right; there's the own 
brother to the one that brought you here. But 
you may save yourself that job." 

I'll not go before he's buried." 

Yes, you will." 

Not I, Colonel Sapt; not for all Ruritania.” 

You fool ! " said he. Come here." 

He drew me to the door. The moon was sink^ 
ing, but about three hundred yards away, coming 


HIS MAJESTY SLEEPS IN STRELSAU. 89 

along the road from Zenda, I made out a party of 
men. There were seven or eight of them; four 
were on horseback and the rest were walking, and 
I saw that they carried long implements, which I 
guessed to be spades and mattocks, on their 
shoulders. 

They'll save you the trouble,'’ said Sapt. 
Come along." 

He was right. The approaching party must, be- 
yond doubt, be Duke Michael's men, come to 
remove the traces of their evil work. I hesitated 
no longer, but an irresistible desire seized me. 
Pointing to the corpse of poor little Joseph, I said to 
Sapt: 

Colonel, we ought to strike a bloAV for him ! " 
‘‘You'd like to give him some company, eh? 
But it's too risky work, your Majesty." 

“ I must have a slap at 'em," said I. 

Sapt wavered. 

“ Well," said he, “ it's not business, you know, 
but you've been a good boy — and if we come to 
grief, why, hang me, it 'll save us a lot of thinking ! 
I’ll show you how to touch them." 


90 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA, 


He cautiously closed the open chink of the door. 
Then we retreated through the house and made our 
way to the back entrance. Here our horses were 
standing. A carriage drive swept all around the 
lodge. 

‘‘Revolver ready?’’ asked Sapt. 

“ No; steel for me,” said I. 

“ Gad, you’re thirsty to-night,” chuckled Sapt. 
“ So be it.” 

We mounted, drawing our swords, and waited 
silently for a minute or two. Then we heard the 
tramp of men on the drive the other side of the 
house. They came to a stand, and one cried : 

“ Now, then, fetch him out! ” 

“ Now! ” whispered Sapt. 

Driving the spurs into our horses, we rushed at a 
gallop round the house, and in a moment we were 
among the ruffians. Sapt told me afterward that 
he killed a man, and I believe him; but I saw no 
more of him. With a cut I split the head of a fel- 
low on a brown horse, and he fell to the ground. 
Then I found myself opposite a big man, and I was 
half conscious of another to my right. It was too 


HIS MAJESTY SLEEPS IN STRELSAU. 91 

warm to stay, and with a simultaneous action I 
drove my spurs into my horse again and my sword 
full into the big man’s breast. His bullet whizzed 
past my ear — I could almost swear it touched it. 1 
wrenched at the sword, but it would not come, and 
I dropped it and galloped after Sapt, whom I now 
saw about twenty yards ahead. I waved my hand 
in farewell and dropped it a second later with a yellj, 
for a bullet had grazed my finger and I felt the 
blood. Old Sapt turned round in the saddle^ 
Someone fired again, but they had no rifles, and we 
were out of range. Sapt fell to laughing. 

‘‘ That’s one to me and two to you, with decent 
luck,” said he. Little Josef will have company.” 

Aye, they’ll be a parti carree,^' said I. My 
blood was up, and I rejoiced to have killed them. 

Well, a pleasant night’s work to the rest! ” said 
he. I wonder if they noticed you? ” 

The big fellow did; as I struck him I heard him 
cry, ^ The king! ’ ” 

‘‘Good! good! Oh, we’ll give Black Michael 
some work before we’ve done! ” 

Pausing an instant, we made a bandage for my 


92 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


wounded finger, which was bleeding freely and 
ached severely, the bone being much bruised. 
Then we rode on, asking of our good horses all that 
was in them. The excitement of the fight and of 
our great resolve died away, and we rode in gloomy 
silence. Day broke clear and cold. We found a 
farmer just up, and made him give us sustenance 
for ourselves and our horses. I, feigning tooth- 
ache, muffled my face closely. Then ahead again, 
till Strelsau lay before us. It was eight o’clock or 
nearing nine, and the gates were all open, as they 
always were save when the duke’s caprice or in- 
trigues shut them. We rode in by the same way 
as we had come out the evening before, all four of 
us — the men and the horses — ^wearied and jaded. 
The streets were even quieter than when we had 
gone; everyone was sleeping off last night’s revelry^, 
and we met hardly a soul till we reached the little 
gate of the palace. There Sapt’s old groom was 
waiting for us. 

‘‘ Is all well, sir? ” he asked. 

“ All’s well,” said Sapt, and the man, coming to 
see, took my hand to kiss. 


HIS MAJESTY SLEEPS IN STRELSAU. 93 

The king’s hurt ! ” he cried. 

It’s nothing,” said I as I dismounted. I 
caught my finger in the door.” 

Remember— silence ! ” said Sapt. ‘‘ Ah ! but, 
my good Freyler, I do not need to tell you that! ” 

The old fellow shrugged his shoulders. 

All young men like to ride abroad now and 
again; why not the king?” said he; and Sapt’s 
laugh left his opinion of my motives undisturbed. 

You should always trust a man,” observed 
Sapt, fitting the key in the lock — just as far as 
you must.” 

We went in and reached the dressing room. 
Flinging open the door, we saw Fritz von Tarlen- 
heim stretched, fully dressed, on the sofa. He 
seemed to have been sleeping, but our entry woke 
him. He leaped to his feet, gave one glance at 
me, and with a joyful cry threw himself on his 
knees before me. 

Thank God, sire ! thank God, you’re safe ! ” he 
cried, stretching his hand up to catch hold of mine. 

I confess that I was moved. This king, what- 
ever his faults, made people love him. For a mo- 


94 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA, 


ment I could not bear to speak or break the poof 
fellow’s illusion. But tough old Sapt had no such 
feeling. He slapped his hand on his thigh 
delightedly. 

“ Bravo, lad! ” cried he. “We shall do! ” 

Fritz looked up in bewilderment. I held out 
my hand. 

“ You’re wounded, sire! ” he exclaimed. 

“ It’s only a scratch,” said I, “ but ” I 

paused. 

He rose to his feet with a bewildered air. Hold- 
ing my hand, he looked me up and down, and down 
and up. Then suddenly he dropped my hand and 
reeled back. 

“ Where’s the king? Where’s the king? ” he 
cried. 

“ Hush, you fool! ” hissed Sapt. “ Not so loud! 
Here’s the king! ” 

A knock sounded at the door. Sapt seized me 
by the hand. 

“Here, quick, to the bedroom! Off with your 
cap and your boots. Get into bed. Cover every- 
thing up.” 

ts 


HIS MAJESTY SLEEPS IN STRELSAU. 95 

I did as I was bid. A moment later Sapt looked 
in, nodded, grinned, and introduced an extremely 
smart and deferential young gentleman, who came 
up to my bedside, bowing again and again, and in- 
formed me that he was of the household of the 
Princess Flavia, and that her Royal Highness had 
sent him especially to inquire how the king's health 
was after the fatigues which his Majesty had under- 
gone yesterday. 

My best thanks, sir, to my cousin," said I; 
and tell her Royal Highness that I was never bet- 
ter in my life." 

‘‘ The king," added old Sapt (who, I began to 
find, loved a good lie for its own sake), has slept 
without a break all night." 

The young gentleman (he reminded me of Osric 
in ‘‘ Hamlet ") bowed himself out again. The farce 
was over, and Fritz von Tarlenheim's pale face re- 
called us to reality — though, in faith, the farce had 
to be reality for us now. 

Is the king dead? " he whispered. 

‘‘ Please God, no," said I. But he's in the 
hands of Black Michael ! " 


CHAPTER VIII. 


A FAIR COUSIN AND A DARK BROTHER. 

A REAL king’s life is perhaps a hard one; but a 
pretended king’s is, I warrant, much harder. On 
the next day Sapt instructed me in my duties— 
what I ought to do and what I ought to know — for 
three hours; then I snatched breakfast, with Sapt 
still opposite me, telling me that the king always 
took white wine in the morning and was known to 
detest all highly seasoned dishes. Then came the 
chancellor for another three hours; and to him I 
had to explain that the hurt to my finger (we 
turned that bullet to happy account) prevented me 
from writing — whence arose great to-do, hunting 
of precedents and so forth, ending in my “ making 
my mark,” and the chancellor attesting it with a 
superfluity of solemn oaths. Then the French 
ambassador was introduced, to present his creden= 
tials; here my ignorance was of no importance, as 


A FAIR COUSIN AND A DARK BROTHER. 91 

the king would have been equally raw to the busi- 
ness (we worked through the whole corps diplo- 
matique in the next few days, a demise of the crown 
necessitating all this bother). 

Then, at last, I was left alone. I called my new’’ 
servant (we had chosen, to succeed poor Josef, a 
young man who had never known the king), had 
a brandy and soda brought to me, and observed 
to Sapt that I trusted that I might now have a rest. 

Fritz von Tarlenheim was standing by. 

“ By Heaven ! ” he cried, “ we waste time. 
Aren’t we going to throw Black Michael by the 
heels? ” 

“ Gently, my son, gently,” said Sapt, knitting his 
brows. “ It would be a pleasure, but it might cost 
us dear. Would Michael fall and leave the king 
alive? ” 

“ And,” I suggested, “ while the king is here in 
Strelsau, on his throne, what grievance has he 
against his dear brother Michael? ” 

“ Are we to do nothing, then? ” 

“ We’re to do nothing stupid,” growled Sapt. 

“ In fact, Fritz,” said I, “ I am reminded of a 


98 THE PRISONER OP ZENDA. 

situation in one of our English plays — ‘ The 
Critic ’ — have you heard of it? Or, if you like, of 
two men, each covering the other with a revolver. 
For I can’t expose Michael without exposing my- 
self ” 

“ And the king,” put in Sapt. 

“ And, hang me, if Michael won’t expose himself 
if he tries to expose me ! ” 

“ It’s very pretty,” said old Sapt. 

“ If I’m found out,” I pursued, “ I will make a 
clean breast of it, and fight it out with the dukej 
but at present I’m waiting for a move from him.” 

“ He’ll kill the king,” said Fritz. 

“ Not he,” said Sapt. 

“ Half of the Six are in Strelsau,” said Fritz. 

“ Only half? You’re sure? ” asked Sapt eagerly. 

“ Yes— only half.” 

“ Then the king’s alive, for the other three 
are guarding him ! ” cried Sapt. 

“ Yes — ^you’re right! ” exclaimed Fritz, his face 
brightening. “ If the king were dead and buried 
they’d all be here with Michael. You know 
Michael’s back, colonel? ” 


/t FAIR COUSIN AND A DARK BROTHER. 99 


“ I know, curse him! ” 

“ Gentlemen, gentlemen,” said I, “ who are the 
Six? ” 

“ I think you’ll make their acquaintance soon,” 
said Sapt. “ They are six gentlemen whom 
Michael maintains in his household ; they belong to 
him body and soul. There are three Ruritanians; 
then there’s a Frenchman, a Belgian, and one of 
your countrymen.” 

“ They’d all cut a throat if Michael told them,” 
said Fritz. 

“ Perhaps they’ll cut mine,” I suggested. 

“ Nothing more likely,” agreed Sapt. “ Who 
are here, Fritz? ” 

“ De Gautet, Bersonin, and Detchard.” 

“The foreigners! It’s as plain as a pikestaff. 
He’s brought them, and left the Ruritanians with 
the king: that’s because he wants to commit the 
Ruritanians as deep as he can.” 

“ They were none of them among our friends at 
the lodge, then? ” I asked. 

“ I wish they had been,” said Sapt wistfully. 
“ They had been, not Six, but Four, by now.” 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


I had already developed one attribute of royalty 
— a feeling that I need not reveal all my mind or 
my secret designs even to my intimate friends. I 
had fully resolved on my course of action. I meant 
to make myself as popular as I could, and at the 
same time to show no disfavor to Michael. By 
these means I hoped to allay the hostility of his ad= 
herents, and make it appear, if an open conflict 
came about, that he was ungrateful and not 
oppressed. 

Yet an open conflict was not what I hoped for. 

The king’s interest demanded secrecy; and while 
secrecy lasted I had a fine game to play in Strelsau. 
Michael should not grow stronger for delay! 

I ordered my horse, and, attended by Fritz von 
Tarlenheim, rode in the grand avenue of the royal 
park, returning a}l the salutes which I received with 
punctilious politeness. Then I rode through a few 
of the streets, stopped and bought flowers of a 
pretty girl, paying her with a piece of gold; and 
then, having attracted the desired amount of atten- 
tion (for I had a trail of half a thousand people after 
me), I rode to the residence of the Princess Flavia, 


A FAIR COUSIN AND A DARK BROTHER. los 


and asked if she would receive me. This step cre-^ 
ated much interest, and was met with shouts of 
approval. The princess was very popular, and the 
chancellor himself had not scrupled to hint to me 
that the more I pressed my suit, and the more 
rapidly I brought it to a prosperous conclusion, the 
stronger should I be in the affection of my sub^ 
jects. The chancellor, of course, did not under^ 
stand the difficulties which lay in the way of fol- 
lowing his loyal and excellent advice. However, I 
thought I could do no harm by calling; and in this 
view Fritz supported me with a cordiality that sur- 
prised me, until he confessed that he also had his 
motive for liking to visit the princess’ house, which 
motive was no other than a great desire to see the 
princess’ lady in waiting and bosom friend, the 
Countess Helga von Strofzin. 

Etiquette seconded Fritz’s hopes. While I was 
ushered into the princess’ room he remained with 
the countess in the antechamber; in spite of the 
people and servants who were hanging about I 
doubt not that they managed a tete-a-tete; but I had 
no leisure to think of them, for I was playing the 


102 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


most delicate move in all my difficult game. I 
had to keep the princess devoted to me — and yet 
indifferent to me; I had to show affection for her — 
and not feel it. I had to make love for another, 
and that to a girl who — princess or no princess — 
was the most beautiful I had ever seen. Well, I 
braced myself to the task, made no easier by the 
charming embarrassment with which I was re- 
ceived. How I succeeded in carrying out my pro- 
gramme will appear hereafter. 

“ You are gaining golden laurels,” she said. 
“ You are like the prince in Shakspere who was 
transformed by becoming king. But I’m forget- 
ting you are king, sire.” 

“ I ask you to speak nothing but what your heart 
tells you — and to call me nothing but my name.” 

She looked at me for a moment. 

“ Then I’m glad and proud, Rudolf,” said she. 
“ Why, as I told you, your very face is changed.” 

I acknowledged the compliment, but I disliked 
the topic; so I said: 

“ My brother is back, I hear. He made an ex- 
cursion, didn’t he? ” 


A FAIR COUSIN AND A DARK BROTHER. 103 

‘‘ Yes, he is here/’ she said, frowning a little. 

He can’t stay long from Strelsau, it seems,” I 
observed, smiling. Well, we are all glad to see 
him. The nearer he is the better.” 

The princess glanced at me with a gleam of 
amusement in her eyes. 

Why, cousin? Is it that you can ” 

See better what he’s doing? Perhaps,” said L 
And why are you glad? ” 

I didn’t say I was glad,” she answered. 

Some people say so for you.” 

‘‘ There are many insolent people,” she said, with 
delightful haughtiness. 

'' Possibly you mean that I am one? ” 

Your Majesty could not be,” she said, 
courtesying in feigned deference, but adding, 
mischievously, after a pause: ‘'Unless, that 
is ” 

“ Well, unless what? ” 

“ Unless you tell me that I mind a snap of my 
fingers where the Duke of Strelsau is.” 

Really I wished that I had been the king. 

“ You don’t care where Cousin Michael 


104 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDa. 


“Ah, Cousin Michael! I call him the Duke of 
Strelsau.” 

“ You call him Michael when you meet him? ” 

“ Yes — by the orders of your father.” 

“ I see. And now by mine? ” 

“ If those are your orders.” 

“ Oh, decidedly! We must all be pleasant to 
our dear Michael.” 

“ You order me to receive his friends, too, I sup- 
pose? ” 

“ The Six?” 

“ You call them that, too? ” 

“ To be in the fashion I do. But I order you to 
receive no one unless you like.” 

“ Except yourself? ” 

“ I pray for myself. I could not order.” 

As I spoke there came a cheer from the street. 
The princess ran to the window. 

“It is he!” she cried. “It is — the Duke of 
Strelsau! ” 

I smiled, but said nothing. She returned to her 
seat. For a few minutes we sat in silence. The 
noise outside subsided, but I heard the tread of feet 


4 FAIR COUSIN AND A DARK BROTHER. 105 


in the anteroom. I began to talk on general sub- 
jects. This went on for some minutes. I won- 
dered what had become of Michael, but it did not 
seem to be for me to interfere. All at once, to my 
great surprise, Flavia, clasping her hands, asked in 
an agitated voice: 

Are you wise to make him angry? ” 

^'What? Who? How am I making him 
angry.” 

Why, by keeping him waiting.” 

My dear cousin, I don’t want to keep him ” 

‘‘ Well, then, is he to come in? ” 

Of course, if you wish it.” 

She looked at me curiously. 

'' How funny you are! ” she said. Of course 
no one could be answered while I was with you.” 
Here was a charming attribute of royalty! 

An excellent etiquette! ” I cried. But I had 
clean forgotten it; and if I were alone with some- 
one else couldn’t you be announced?” 

You know as well as I do. I could be, because 
I am of the Blood; ” and she still looked puzzled. 

I never could remember all these silly rules/^ 


io6 the prisoner OF ZENDA. 

said I rather feebly, as I inwardly cursed Fritz 
for not posting me up. But Fll repair my 
fault/’ 

I jumped up, flung open the door, and advanced 
into the anteroom. Michael was sitting at a table, 
a heavy frown on his face. Everyone else was 
standing, save that impudent young dog Fritz, who 
was lounging easily in an armchair, and flirting 
with the Countess Helga. He leaped up as I 
entered, with a deferential elasticity that lent point 
to his former nonchalance. I had no difficulty in 
understanding that the duke might not like young 
Fritz. 

I held out my hand, Michael took it, and I em- 
braced him. Then I drew him with me into the 
inner room. 

'' Brother,” I said, if I had known you were 
here you should not have waited here a moment 
before I asked the princess to permit me to bring 
you to her.” 

He thanked me, but coldly. The man had many 
qualities, but he could not hide his feelings. A 
mere stranger could have seen that he hated me. 


A FAIR COUSIN AND A DARK BROTHER. 207 


and hated worse to see me with Princess Flavia; 
yet I am persuaded that he tried to conceal both 
feelings, and, further, that he tried to persuade me 
that he believed I was verily the king. I did not 
know, of course; but unless the king was an impos- 
tor, at once cleverer and more audacious than I 
(and I began to think something of myself in that 
role), Michael could not believe that. And if he 
didn't how he must have loathed paying me defer- 
ence, and hearing my Michael " and my 
Flavia"! 

‘‘ Your hand is hurt, sire," he observed with con- 
cern. 

Yes; I was playing a game with a mongrel dog 
(I meant to stir him), and you know, brother, such 
have uncertain tempers." ■ 

He smiled sourly, and his dark eyes rested on me 
for a moment. 

‘‘ But is there no danger from the bite? " cried 
Flavia anxiously. 

'' None from this," said I. If I gave him a 
chance to bite deeper it would be different, 
cousin." 


THE PRISONER OP ZENDA. 


In8 

But surely he has been destroyed? ’’ said she. 

Not yet. We’re waiting to see if his bite is 
harmful.” 

^^And if it is?” asked Michael, with his sour 
smile. 

He’ll be knocked on the head, brother,” said I. 

You won’t play with him any more?” urged 
Flavia. 

Perhaps I shall.” 

He might bite again.” 

Doubtless he’ll try,” said I, smiling. 

Then, fearing Michael would say something 
which I must appear to resent (for, though I might 
show him my hate, I must seem to be full of favor), 
I began to compliment him on the magnificent con- 
dition of his regiment and on their loyal greeting to 
me on the day of my coronation. Thence I passed 
to a rapturous description of the shooting lodge 
which he had lent me. But he rose suddenly to his 
feet. His temper was failing him, and as an ex- 
cuse he said farewell. However, as he reached the 
door he stopped, saying: 

Three friends of mine are very anxious to have 


A FAIR COUSIN AND A DARK BROTHER. 109 


the honor of being presented to you, sire. They 
are here in the antechamber.’’ 

I joined him presently, passing my arm through 
his. The look on his face was honey to me. We 
entered the antechamber in fraternal fashion. 
Michael beckoned, and three men came forward. 

These gentlemen,” said Michael, with a stately 
courtesy which, to do him justice, he could assume 
with perfect grace and ease, are the loyalest and 
most devoted of your Majesty’s servants, and are 
my very faithful and attached friends.” 

'' On the last ground as much as the first,” said 
I, I am very pleased to see them.” 

They came one by one and kissed my hand — De 
Gautet, a tall, lean fellow, with hair standing 
straight up and waxed mustache; Bersonin, the 
Belgian, a portly man of middle height with a bald 
head (though he was not far past thirty) ; and last, 
the Englishman, Detchard, a narrow-faced fellow, 
with close-cut fair hair and a bronzed complexion. 
He was a finely made man, broad in the shoulders 
and slender in the hips. A good fighter, but a 
crooked customer, I put him down for. I spoke 


no 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


to him in English, with a slight foreign accent, and 
I swear the fellow smiled, though he hid the smile 
in an instant. 

“ So Mr. Detchard is in the secret,” thought I. 

Having got rid of my dear brother and his 
friends, I returned to make my adieu to my cousin. 
She was standing at the door. I bade her farewell, 
taking her hand in mine. 

“ Rudolf,” she Scud, very low, “ be careful, won’t 
you? ” 

“ Of what? ” 

“ You know — I can’t say. But think what your 
life is to ” 

“ Well, to ? ” 

“ To Ruritania.” 

Was I right to play the part, or wrong to play 
the part? I know not; evil lay both ways, and I 
dared not tell her the truth. 

“ Only to Ruritania? ” I asked softly. 

A sudden flush spread over her incomparable 
face. 

“ To your friends, too,” she said. 

“ Friends? ” 


A FAIR cousin AND A DARK BROTHER, m 


And to your cousin/’ she whispered, and lov- 
ing servant.” 

I could not speak. I kissed her hand, and went 
out cursing myself. 

Outside I found Master Fritz, quite reckless of 
the footmen, playing at cat’s-cradle with the Count- 
ess Helga. 

Hang it ! ” said he, we can’t always be plot- 
ting. Love claims his share.” 

I’m inclined to think he does,” said I; and 
Fritz, who had been by my side, dropped respect- 
fully behind. 


CHAPTER IX. 


A NEW USE FOR A TEA TABLE. 

If I were to detail the ordinary events of my 
daily life at this time, they might prove instructive 
to people who are not familiar with the insides of 
palaces; if I revealed some of the secrets I learned, 
they might prove of interest to the statesmen of 
Europe. I intend to do neither of these things. 
I should be between the Scylla of dullness and the 
Charybdis of indiscretion, and I feel that I had far 
better confine myself strictly to the underground 
drama which was being played beneath the surface 
of Ruritanian politics. I need only sa)^ that the 
secret of my imposture defied detection. I made 
mistakes. I had bad minutes: it needed all the 
tact and graciousness whereof I was master to 
smooth over some apparent lapses of memory and 
unmindfulness of old acquaintances of which I was 
guilty. But I escaped, and I attributed my escape, 


ZX2 


A NEIV USE FOR A TEA TABLE, 


as I said before, most of all to the very audacity of 
the enterprise. It is my belief that, given the nec- 
essary physical likeness, it was far easier to pretend 
to be king of Ruritania than it would have been to 
personate my next-door neighbor. 

One day Sapt came into my room. He threw 
me a letter, saying: 

That’s for you — a woman’s hand, I think. But 
I’ve some news for you first.” 

‘‘What’s that?” 

“ The king’s at the castle of Zenda,” said he. 

“ How do you know? ” 

“ Because the other half of Michael’s Six are 
there. I had inquiries made, and they’re all there 
— Lauengram, Krafstein, and young Rupert Hent- 
zau; three rogues, too, on my honor, as fine as live 
in Ruritania.” 

“ Well? ” 

“ Well, Fritz wants you to march to the castle 
with horse, foot, and artillery.” 

“ And drag the moat? ” I asked. 

“That would be about it,” grinned Sapt; “and 
shouldn’t find the king’s body then.” 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


114 

“You think it’s certain he’s there?” 

“ Very probable. Besides the fact of those three 
being there, the drawbridge is kept up and no one 
goes in without an order from young Hentzau or 
Black Michael himself. We must tie Fritz up.” 

“ I’ll go to Zenda,” said I. 

“ You’re mad.” 

“ Some day.” 

“ Oh, perhaps. You’ll very likely stay there, if 
you do.” 

‘ “ That may be, my friend,” said I carelessly. 

“ His Majesty looks sulky,” observed Sapt. 
“ How’s the love affair? ” 

“ Damn you, hold your tongue! ” I said. 

He looked at me for a moment; then he lit his 
pipe. It was quite true that I was in a bad tem- 
per, and I went on perversely: 

“ Wherever I go I’m dogged by half a dozen 
fellows.” 

“ I know you are; I send ’em,” he replied com- 
posedly. 

“ What for? ” 

“ Well,” said Sapt, puffing away, “ it wouldn’t 


A mW USE FOR A TEA TABLE. 


be exactly inconvenient for Black Michael if you 
disappeared. With you gone the old game that 
we stopped would be played — or he'd have a shot 
at it." 

'' I can take care of myself." 

De Gautet, Bersonin, and Detchard are in 
Strelsau; and any one of them, lad, would cut your 
throat as readily — as readily as I would Black 
Michael's and a deal more treacherously. What’s 
the letter? " 

I opened it and read it aloud: 

If the king desires to know what it deeply concerns the king 
to know, let him do as this letter bids him. At the end of the 
New Avenue there stands a house in large grounds. The 
house has a portico, with a statue of a nymph in it. A wall in- 
closes the garden ; there is a gate in the wall at the back. At 
twelve o’clock to-night, if the king enters alone by that gate, 
turns to the right, and walks twenty yards, he will find a sum- 
merhouse, approached by a flight of six steps. If he mounts 
and enters, he will find someone who will tell him what touches 
most dearly his life and his throne. This is written by a faith- 
ful friend. He must be alone. If he neglects the invitation, his 
life will be in danger. Let him show this to no one, or he 
will ruin a woman who loves him ; Black Michael docs not 
pardon. 

“ No,” observed Sapt as I ended, “ but he can 
dictate a very pretty letter.” 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


ii6 

I had arrived at the same conclusion, and was 
about to throw the letter away, when I saw there 
was more writing on the other side. 

“ Hallo ! there’s some more.” 

If you hesitate [the writer continued] consult Colonel 
Sapt 

“ Eh ! ” exclaimed that gentleman, genuinely 
astonished. “ Does she take me for a greater fool 
than you? ” 

I waved to him to be silent. 

Ask him what woman would do most to prevent the duke 
from marrying his cousin, and therefore most to prevent his be- 
coming king ? And ask if her name begins with — A. 

I sprang to my feet. Sapt laid down his pipe. 

‘^Antoinette de Mauban, by Heaven!” I cried. 

“ How do you know? ” asked Sapt. 

I told him what I knew of the lady, and how I 
knew it. He nodded. 

“ It’s so far true that she’s had a great row with 
Michael,” said he thoughtfully. 

“ If she would, she could be useful,” I said. 

“ I believe, though, that Michael wrote that 
letter.” 


A NEIV USE FOR A TEA TABLE. 


xiy 

So do I, but I mean to know for certain^ I 
shall go, Sapt/' 

No, I shall go,” said he. 

You may go as far as the gate.” 

I shall go to the summerhouse.” 

I’m hanged if you shall! ” 

I rose and leaned my back against the mantel- 
piece. 

Sapt, I believe in that woman, and I shall go.” 

I don’t believe in any woman,” said Sapt, and 
you shan’t go.” 

I either go to the summerhouse or back to 
England,” said I. 

Sapt began to know exactly -how far he could 
lead or drive, and when he must follow. 

We’re playing against time,” I added. Every 
day we leave the king where he is there is fresh 
risk. Every day I masquerade like this there is 
fresh risk. Sept, we must play high; we must force 
the game.” 

So be it,” he said with a sigh. 

To cut the story short, at half-past eleven that 
night Sapt and I mounted our horses. Fritz was 


xi8 THE PRISONER OF ZEN DA. 

again left on guard, our destination not being re- 
vealed to him. It was a very dark night. I wore 
no sword, but I carried a revolver, a long knife, and 
a bull’s-eye lantern. We arrived outside the gate. 
I dismounted. Sapt held out his hand. 

“ I shall wait here,” he said. “ If I hear a shot 
I’ll ” 

“ Stay where you are ; it’s the king’s only chance. 
You mustn’t come to grief too.” 

“ You’re right, lad. Good luck! ” 

I pressed the little gate. It yielded, and I found 
myself in a wild sort of shrubbery. There was a 
grass-grown path and, turning to the right as I had 
been bidden, I followed it cautiously. My lantern 
was closed, the revolver was in my hand. I heard 
not a sound. Presently a large dark object loomed 
out of the gloom ahead of me. It was the summer- 
house. Reaching the steps, I mounted them and 
found myself confronted by a weak, rickety wooden 
door, which hung upon the latch. I pushed it 
open and walked in. A woman flew to me and 
seized my hand. 

“ Shut the door,” she whispered. 


A NEIV USE FOR A TEA TABLE. 


I obeyed, and turned the light of my lantern on 
her. She was in evening dress, arrayed very 
sumptuously, and her dark striking beauty was 
marvelously displayed in the glare of the bulhs-eyeo 
The summerhouse was a bare little room, furnished 
only with a couple of chairs and a small iron table, 
such as one sees in a tea garden or an open-air 
cafe. 

'' Don’t talk,” she said. ‘‘ We’ve no time. Lis^ 
ten! I know you, Mr. Rassendyll. I wrote that 
letter at the duke’s orders.” 

So I thought,” said I. 

‘‘ In twenty minutes three men will be here t© 
kill you.” 

‘‘ Three — the three? ” 

‘‘ Yes. You must be gone by then. If not, to 
night you’ll be killed ” 

Or they will.” 

Listen, listen! When you’re killed, your body 
will be taken to a low quarter of the town. It will 
be found there. Michael will at once arrest all 
your friends — Colonel Sapt and Captain von Tar- 
lenheim first — proclaim a state of siege in StrelsaU; 


liSO 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


and send a messenger to Zenda. The other three 
will murder the king in the castle, and the duke 
will proclaim either himself or the princess — him- 
self if he is strong enough. Anyhow, he’ll marry 
her, and become king in fact, and soon in name. 
Do you see? ” 

“ It’s a pretty plot. But why, madame, do 


“ Say I’m a Christian — or say I’m jealous. My 
God! shall I see him marry her? Now go; but re- 
member — this is what I have to tell you — that 
never by night or by day are you safe. Three men 
follow you as a guard. Is it not so? Well, three 
follow them. Michael’s three are never two hun- 
dred yards from you. Your life is not worth a 
moment if ever they find you alone. Now go. 
Stay, the gate will be guarded by now. Go down 
softly, go past the summerhouse, on for a hundred 
yards, and you’ll find a ladder against the wall. 
Get over it and fly for your life.” 

“ And you? ” I asked. 

“ I have my game to play, too. If he finds out 
what I have done we shall not meet again. If 


A NEIV USE FOR A TEA TABLE. 


S22 


not I may yet But never mindo Go at 

once.’^ 

But what will you tell him? ’’ 

That you never came — that you saw through 
the trick/’ 

I took her hand and kissed it. 

Madame,” said I, you have served the king 
well to-night. Where is he in the castle? ” 

She sank her voice to a fearful whisper. I lis= 
tened eagerly. 

‘‘Across the drawbridge you come to a heavy 
door; behind that lies Hark! What’s that? 

There were steps outside. 

“They’re coming! They’re too soon! HeaV“ 
ens! they’re too soon!” and she turned pale as 
death. 

“ They seem to me,” said I, “ to be in the nick 
of time.” 

“ Close your lantern. See, there’s a chink in the 
door. Can you see them? ” 

I put my eye to the chink. On the lowest step I 
saw three dim figures. I cocked my revolveto 
Antoinette hastily laid her hand on mine. 




THE PRISONER OF ZEND/!. 


“You may kill one,” said she. “ But what 
then? ” 

A voice came from outside — a voice that spoke 
perfect English. 

“ Mr. Rassendyll,” it said. 

I made no answer. 

“ We want to talk to you. Will you promise not 
to shoot till we’ve done? ” 

“ Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr. Det- 
chard? ” I said. 

“ Never mind names.” 

“ Then let mine alone.” 

“ All right, sire. I’ve an offer for you.” 

I still had my eye to the chink. The three had 
mounted two steps more; three revolvers pointed 
full at the door. 

“Will you let us in? We pledge our honor to 
observe the truce.” 

“ Don’t trust them,” whispered Antoinette. 

“ We can speak through the door,” said I. 

“ But you might open it and fire,” objected Det- 
chard; “and though we should finish you, you 


A NEJV USE FOR A TEA TABLE. 123 

might finish one of us. Will you give your honor 
not to fire while we talk? ” 

Don’t trust them/’ whispered Antoinette 
again. 

A sudden idea struck me. I considered it for a 
moment. It seemed feasible, 

I give my honor not to fire before you do/^ 
said I ; but I won’t let you in. Stand outside and 
talk.” 

'' That’s sensible,” he said. 

The three mounted the last step, and stood just 
outside the door. I laid my ear to the chink. I 
could hear no words, but Detchard’s head was close 
to that of the taller of his companions (De Gautet, 
I guessed). 

‘‘H’m! Private communications,” thought L 
Then I said aloud: 

Well, gentlemen, what’s the offer? ” 

A safe-conduct to the frontier, and fifty thou« 
sand pounds English.” 

No, no,” whispered Antoinette in the lowest of 
whispers. ‘‘ They are treacherous/’ 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


I That seems handsome/’ said I, reconnoitering 
through the chink. They were all close together, 
Just outside the door now. 

I had probed the hearts of the ruffians, and I 
did not heed Antoinette’s warning. They meant 
to rush ” me as soon as I was engaged in talk. 

Give me a minute to consider,” said I; and I 
thought I heard a laugh outside. 

I turned to Antoinette. 

Stand up close to the wall, out of the line of 
fire from the door,” I whispered. 

What are you going to do? ” she asked in 
fright. 

• You’ll see,” said I. 

I took up the little iron table. It was not verj’' 
heavy for a man of my strength, and I held it by the 
legs. The top, protruding in front of me, made a 
complete screen for my head and body. I fastened 
my closed lantern to my belt and put my revolver 
in a handy pocket. Suddenly I saw the door move 
ever so slightly — perhaps it was the wind, perhaps 
it was a hand trying it outside. 

I drew back as far as I could from the door, 


A mw USE FOR A TEA TABLE. 125 

holding the table in the position that I have de- 
scribed. Then I called out: 

Gentlemen, I accept your offer, relying on your 

honor. If you will open the door 

Open it yourself,” said Detchard. 

It opens outward,” said I. Stand back a 
little, gentlemen, or I shall hit you when I open it.” 

I went and fumbled with the latch. Then I stole 
back to my place on tiptoe. 

''I can’t open it!” I cried. ‘‘The latch has 
caught.” 

“Tut! ril open it!” cried Detchard. “Non- 
sense, Bersonin, why not? Are you afraid of one 
man? ” 

I smiled to myself. An instant later the door 
v/as flung back. The gleam of a lantern showed 
me the three close together outside, their revolvers 
leveled. With a shout I charged at my utmost 
pace across the summerhouse and through the 
doorway. Three shots rang out and battered into 
my shield. Another moment, and I leaped out and 
the table caught them full and square, and in a 
tumbling, swearing, struggling mass they and I and 


126 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


that brave table rolled down the steps of the sum« 
merhouse to the ground below. Antoinette de 
Mauban shrieked, but I rose to my feet, laughing 
aloud. 

De Gautet and Bersonin lay like men stunned. 
Detchard was under the table, but as I rose he 
pushed it from him and fired again. I raised my 
revolver and took a snap shot. I heard him curse, 
and then I ran like a hare, laughing as I went, past 
the summerhouse and along by the wall. I heard 
steps behind me, and, turning round, I fired again 
for luck. The steps ceased. 

Please God,'' said I, she told me the truth 
about the ladder! " for the wall was high and 
topped with iron spikes. 

Yes, there it was. I was up and over in a min- 
ute. Doubling back, I saw the horses. Then I 
heard a shot. It was Sapt. He had heard us and 
was battling and raging with the locked gate, ham- 
mering it and firing into the keyhole like a man 
possessed. He had quite forgotten that he was not 
to take part in the fight. Whereat I laughed again, 
and said as I clapped him on the shoulder: 


A NEIV USE FOR A TEA TABLE, 


127 


Come home to bed, old chap. IVe got the 
finest tea-table story that ever you heard ! ’’ 

He started and cried: You’re safe! ” and wrung 
my hand. But a moment later he added: 

And what the devil are you laughing at? ” 
Four gentlemen round a tea table,” said I, 
laughing still, for it had been uncommonly ludi- 
crous to see the formidable three altogether routed 
and scattered with no more deadly weapon than an 
ordinary tea table. 

Moreover, you will observe that I had honorably 
kept my word and not fired till they did. 


CHAPTER X. 


A GREAT CHANCE FOR A VILLAIN. 

It was the custom that the prefect of police 
should send every afternoon a report to me on the 
condition of the capital and the feeling of the 
people: the document included also an account of 
the movements of any persons whom the police 
had received instructions to watch. Since I had 
been in Strelsau Sapt had been in the habit of read- 
ing the report and telling me any items of interest 
which it might contain. On the day after my ad- 
venture in the summerhouse he came in as I was 
playing a hand of ecart6 with Fritz von Tarlenheim. 

“ The report is rather full of interest this after- 
noon,” he observed, sitting down. 

“ Do you find,” I asked, “ any mention of a cer- 
tain fracas? ” 

He shook his head with a smile. 

“ I find this first,” he said: “ ‘ His Highness the 

X28 


A GREAT CHANCE FOR A VILLAIN. 


129 


Duke of Strelsau left the city (so far as it appears, 
suddenly), accompanied by several of his house- 
hold. His destination is believed to be the castle 
of Zenda, but the party traveled by road and not by 
train. MM. De Gautet, Bersonin, and Detchard 
followed an hour later, the last named carrying his 
arm in a sling. The cause of his wound is not 
known, but it is suspected that he has fought a 
duel, probably incidental to a love affair.’ ” 

That is remotely true,” I observed, very well 
pleased to find that I had left my mark on the 
fellow. 

Then we come to this,” pursued Sapt. Mme. 
de Mauban, whose movements have been watched 
according to instructions, left by train at midday. 

She took a ticket for Dresden ” 

It’s an old habit of hers,” said I. 

‘ The Dresden trains stop at Zenda.’ An acute 
fellow, this. And finally listen to this: ' The state 
of feeling in the city is not satisfactory. The king 
is much criticised ’ (you know he’s told to be quite 
frank) ‘ for taking no steps about his marriage. 
From inquiries among the entourage of the Princess 


rso THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 

Flavia her Royal Highness is believed to be deeply 
offended by the remissness of his Majesty. The 
common people are coupling her name with that 
of the Duke of Strelsau, and the duke gains much 
popularity from the suggestion. I have caused 
the announcement that the king gives a ball to- 
night in honor of the princess to be widely diffused, 
and the effect is good.’ ” 

That is news to me,” said I. 

‘‘ Oh, the preparations are all made!” laughed 
Fritz. ‘‘ I’ve seen to that.” 

Sapt turned to me and said in a sharp, decisive 
voice : 

‘‘You must make love to her to-night, you 
know.” 

“I think it very likely I shall if I see her alone,” 
said I. “Hang it, Sapt, you don’t suppose I find 
it difficult?” 

Fritz whistled a bar or two; then he said: 
“ You’ll find it only too easy. Look here, I hate 
telling you this, but I must. The Countess Helga 
told me that the princess had become most at- 


A GREAT CHANCE FOR A VILLAIN. 13 ^ 

tached to the king. Since the coronation her feel- 
ings have undergone a marked development. It^s 
quite true that she is deeply wounded by the king^s 
apparent neglect.’’ 

'' Here’s a kettle of fish! ” I groaned. 

‘‘Tut, tut!” said Sapt. “I suppose you’ve 
made pretty speeches to a girl before now? That’s 
all she wants.” 

Fritz, himself a lover, understood better my dis- 
tress. He laid his hand on my shoulder, but said 
nothing. 

“ I think, though,” pursued that cold-blooded 
old Sapt, “ that you’d better make your offer to- 
night.” 

“ Good Heavens! ” 

“ Or, at any rate, go near it; and I shall send a 
‘ semi-official ’ to the papers.” 

“ I’ll do nothing of the sort — no more will 
you!” said I. “I utterly refuse to take part in 
making a fool of the princess.” 

Sapt looked at me with his small keen eyes. A 
slow, cunning smile passed over his face. 


132 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


‘^All right, lad, all right!'’ said he. We 
mustn't press you too hard. Soothe her down a 
bit, if you can, you know. Now for Michael!" 

^^Oh, damn Michael!" said I. He'll do to= 
morrow. Here, Fritz, come for a stroll in the 
garden." 

Sapt at once yielded. His rough manner cov- 
ered a wonderful tact — and, as I came to recognize 
more and more, a remarkable knowledge of human 
nature. Why did he urge me so little about the 
princess? Because he knew that her beauty and 
my ardor would carry me further than all his argu- 
ments — and that the less I thought about the thing 
the more likely was I to do it. He must have seen 
the unhappiness he might bring on the princess; 
but that went for nothing with him. Can I say, 
confidently, that he was wrong? If the king were 
restored the princess must turn to him, either 
knowing, or not knowing, the change. And if the 
king were not restored to us? It was a subject 
that we had never yet spoken of. But I had an 
idea that, in such a case, Sapt meant to seat me on 
the throne of Ruritania for the term of my life. 


A GREAT CHANCE FOR A VILLAIN. 


133 


He would have set Satan himself there sooner than 
that pupil of his, Black Michael. 

The ball was a sumptuous affair. I opened it 
by dancing a quadrille with Flavia; then I waltzed 
with her. Curious eyes and eager whispers at- 
tended us. We went in to supper; and halfway 
through I, half mad by then, for her glance had 
answered mine, and her quick breathing met my 
stammered sentences — I rose in my place before all 
the brilliant crowd, and taking the Red Rose that 
I wore, flung the ribbon with its jeweled badge 
round her neck. In a tumult of applause I sat 
down; I saw Sapt smiling over his wine, and Fritz 
frowning. The rest of the meal passed in silence; 
neither Flavia nor I could speak. Fritz touched 
me on the shoulder, and I rose, gave her my arm, 
and walked down the hall into a little room, where 
coffee was served to us. The gentlemen and ladies 
in attendance withdrew, and we were alone. 

The little room had French windows opening on 
the gardens. The night was fine, cool, and fra- 
grant. Flavia sat down, and I stood opposite hen 
I was struggling with myself; if she had not looked 


134 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


at me I believe that even then I should have won 
my fight. But suddenly, involuntarily, she gave 
me one brief glance — a glance of question, hur- 
riedly turned aside; a blush that the question had 
overcome spread over her cheek, and she caught 
her breath. 

Ah, if you had seen her! I forgot the king in 
Zenda. I forgot the king in Strelsau. She was a 
princess — and I an impostor. Do you think I re- 
membered that? I threw myself on my knee and 
seized her hands in mine. I said nothing. Why 
should I? The soft sounds of the night set my 
wooing to a wordless melody as I pressed my 
kisses on her lips. 

She pushed me from her, crying suddenly: 

‘‘Ah! is it true? or is it only because you 
must? ” 

“It’s true!” I said in low, smothered tones — 
“ true that I love you more than life — or truth — 
or honor! ” 

She set no meaning to my words, treating them 
as one of love’s sweet extravagances. She came 
close to me, and whispered: 


A GREAT CHANCE FOR A VILLAIN. ^35 

Oh, if you were not the king! Then I could 
show you how I love you! How is it that I love 
you now, Rudolf? ’’ 

Now? ’’ 

‘‘Yes — ^just lately. I — I never did before.’’ 

Pure triumph filled me. It was I — Rudolf Ras- 
sendyll — who had won her! I caught her round 
the waist. 

“You didn’t love me before?” I asked. 

She looked up into my face, smiling, as she 
whispered : 

“ It must have been your crown. I felt it first 
on the coronation day.” 

“ Never before? ” I asked eagerly. 

She laughed low. 

“ You speak as if you would be pleased to hear 
me say ‘ Yes ’ to that,” she said. 

“ Would ‘ Yes ’ be true? ” 

“ Yes,” I just heard her breathe, and she went 
on in an instant: “ Be careful, Rudolf; be careful, 
dear. He will be mad now.” 

“ What, Michael? If Michael were the 


worst- 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


£36 

“What worst is there?” 

There was yet a chance for me. Controlling 
myself with a mighty effort, I took my hands off 
her and stood a yard or two away. I remember 
now the note of the wind in the elm trees out- 
side. 

“ If I were not the king,” I began; “if I were 
only a private gentleman ” 

Before I could finish her hand was in mine. 

“ If you were a convict in the prison of Strelsau 
you would be my king,” she said. 

And under my breath I groaned, “ God forgive 
me! ” and, holding her hand in mine, I said again: 

“ If I were not the king ” 

“Hush, hush!” she whispered. “I don’t de- 
serve it — I don’t deserve to be doubted. Ah, Ru- 
dolf! does a woman who marries without love look 
on the man as I look on you? ” 

And she hid her face from me. 

For more than a minute we stood there to- 
gether; and I, even with my arm about her, sum- 
moned up what honor and conscience her beauty 
and the toils that I was in had left me. 


A GREAT CHANCE FOR A VILLAIN. 


137 


Flavia/’ I said in a strange, dry voice that 
seemed not my own, I am not ’’ 

As I spoke — as she raised her eyes to me^ — there 
was a heavy step on the gravel outside, and a man 
appeared at the window. A little cry burst from 
Flavia as she sprang back from me. My half- 
finished sentence died on my lips. Sapt stood 
there, bowing low, but with a stern frown on his 
face. 

'' A thousand pardons, sire,’’ said he, but his 
Eminence the Cardinal has waited this quarter of 
an hour to offer his respectful adieu to your 
Majesty.” 

I met his eye full and square ; and I read in it an 
angry warning. How long he had been a listener 
I knew not, but he had come in upon us in the nick 
of time. 

‘‘ We must not keep his Eminence waiting,” 
said 1. 

But Flavia, in whose love there lay no shame, 
with radiant eyes and blushing face held out her 
hand to Sapt. She said nothing, but no man could 
have missed her meaning who had ever seen a 


the prisoner of zend^^. 

woman in the exaltation of love. A sour, yet sad, 
smile passed over the old soldier’s face, and there 
was tenderness in his voice as, bending to kiss her 
hand, he said: 

'' In joy and sorrow, in good times and bad, God 
save your Royal Highness! ” 

He paused and added, glancing at me and draw- 
ing himself up to military erectness: 

But before all comes the king — God save the 
king!” 

And Flavia caught at my hand and kissed it, 
murmuring: 

''Amen! Good God, amen!” 

We went into the ballroom again. Forced to 
receive adieus, I was separated from Flavia; every- 
one, when he left me, went to her. Sapt was out 
and in of the throng, and where he had been 
glances, smiles, and whispers were rife. I doubted 
not that, true to his relentless purpose, he was 
spreading the news that he had learned. To up- 
hold the crown and beat Black Michael — that was 
his one resolve. Flavia, myself — aye, and the real 
king in Zenda, were pieces in his game; and pawns 



"I HANDED FLAVIA DOWN THE BROAD MARBLE STEPS.”— 1S9. 






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A GREAT CHANCE FOR A VILLAIN. 


^39 


have no business with passions. Not even at the 
walls of the palace did he stop; for when at last I 
handed Flavia down the broad marble steps and 
into her carriage there was a great crowd awaiting 
us, and we were welcomed with deafening cheers. 
What could I do? Had I spoken then they would 
have refused to believe that I was not the king; 
they might have believed that the king had run 
mad. By Sapt’s devices and my own ungoverned 
passion I had been forced on, and the way back 
had closed behind me; and the passion still drove 
me in the same direction as the devices se- 
duced me. I faced all Strelsau that night as 
the king and the accepted suitor of the Princess 
Flavia. 

At last, at three in the morning, when the cold 
light of dawning day began to steal in, I was in my 
dressing room, and Sapt alone was with me. I sat 
like a man dazed, staring into the fire; he puffed at 
his pipe; Fritz was gone to bed, having almost re- 
fused to speak to me. On the table by me lay a 
rose; it had been in Flavians dress, and as we parted 
she had kissed it and given it to me. 


E40 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


Sapt advanced his hand toward the rose, but, 
with a quick movement, I shut mine down upon it. 

That's mine," I said, '' not yours — nor the 
king's either." 

We struck a good blow for the king to-night," 
said he. 

I turned on him fiercely. 

What's to prevent me striking a blow for my- 
self? " I said. 

He nodded his head. 

I know what's in your mind," he said. Yes, 
lad; but you're bound in honor." 

Have you left me any honor? " 

Oh, come! to play a little trick on a girl " 

‘‘You can spare me that. Colonel Sapt, if you 
would not have me utterly a villain — if you would 
not have your king rot in Zenda, while Michael 

and I play for the great stake outside You 

follow me? " 

“ Aye, I follow you." 

“We must act, and quickly! You saw to-night 

—you heard to-night " 

“ I did," said he. 


A GREAT CHANCE FOR A VILLAIN. 


141 


Your cursed acuteness told you what I should 
do. Well, leave me here a week — and there’s 
another problem for you. Do you 
swer? 

Yes, I find it,” he answered, frowning heavily. 

But if you did that you’d have to fight me first — 
and kill me.” 

Well, and if I had — or a score of men? I tell 
you, I could raise all Strelsau on you in an hour, 
and choke you with your lies — yes, your mad lies — 
in your mouth.” 

It’s gospel truth,” he said — thanks to my ad- 
vice, you could.” 

I could marry the princess, and send Michael 
and his brother together to 

I’m not denying it, lad,” said he. 

Then, in God’s name,” I cried, stretching out 
my hands to him, let us go to Zenda and crush 
this Michael, and bring the king back to his own 
again.” 

The old fellow stood and looked at me for full a 
minute. 


‘‘ And the princess? ” he said. 


S42 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


I bowed my head to meet my hands, and crushed 
the rose between my fingers and my lips. 

I felt his hand on my shoulder, and his voice 
sounded husky as he whispered low in my ear: 

“ Before God, you’re the finest Elphberg of them 
all. But I have eaten of the king’s bread, and I 
am the king’s servant. Come, we will go to 
Zenda! ” 

And I looked up and caught him by the handc 
And the eyes of both of us were wet. 


CHAPTER XL 


HUNTING A VERY BIG BOAR. 

The terrible temptation which was assailing 
me will now be understood. I would so force 
Michael’s hand that he must kill the king. I was 
in a position to bid him defiance and tighten my 
grasp on the crown — not for its own sake, but be- 
cau ^ the King of Ruritania was to wed the Prin- 
cess Plavia. What of Sapt and Fritz? Ah! but a 
man cannot be held to write down in cold blood 
the wild and black thoughts that storm his brain 
when an uncontrolled passion has battered a breach 
for them. Yet, unless he sets up as a saint, he 
need not hate himself for them. He is better em- 
ployed, as it humbly seems to me, in giving thanks 
that power to resist was vouchsafed to him than in 
fretting over wicked impulses which come un- 
sought and extort an unwilling hospitality from 
the weakness of our nature. 

.’143 


144 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


It was a fine bright morning when I walked, un- 
attended, to the princess’ house, carrying a nose« 
gay in my hand. Policy made excuses for love, 
and every attention that I paid her, while it riveted 
my own chains, bound closer to me the people of 
the great city, who worshiped her. I found Fritz’s 
inamorata^ theXountess Helga, gathering blooms 
in the garden for her mistress’ wear, and prevailed 
on her to take mine in their place. The girl was 
rosy with happiness, for Fritz, in his turn, had not 
wasted his evening, and no dark shadow hung over 
his wooing, save the hatred which the Duke of 
Strelsau was known to bear him. 

And that,” she said, with a mischievous smile, 
^^your Majesty has made of no moment. Yes, 
I will take the flowers; shall I tell you, sire, 
what is the first thing the princess does with 
them? ” 

We were talking on a broad terrace that ran 
along the back of the houi e, and a window above 
our heads stood open. 

Madame!” cried the countess merrily, and 
Flavia herself looked out. I bared my head and 


HUNTING A VERY BIG BOAR. US 

bowed. She wore a white gown, and her hair was 
loosely gathered in a knot. She kissed her hand 
to me, crying: 

'' Bring the king up, Helga; I'll give him some 
coffee." 

The countess, with a gay glance, led the way, 
and took me into Flavians morning room. And, 
left alone, we greeted one another as lovers are 
wont. Then the princess laid two letters before 
me. One was from Black Michael — a most cour- 
teous request that she would honor him by spend- 
ing a day at his castle of Zenda, as had been her 
custom once a year in the summer, when the place 
and its gardens were in the height of their great 
beauty. I threw the letter down in disgust, and 
Flavia laughed at me. Then, growing grave 
again, she pointed to the other sheet. 

‘‘ I don't know who that comes from," she said. 

Read it." 

I knew in a moment. There was no signature 
at all this time, but the handwriting was the same 
as that which had told me of the snare in the sum-* 
merhouse; it was Antoinette de Mauban's. 


146 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


I have no cause to love you [it ran], but God forbid that 
you should fall into the power of the duke. Accept no invi- 
tations of his. Go nowhere without a large guard — a regiment 
is not too much to make you safe. Show this, if you can, to 
him who reigns in Strelsau. 

Why doesn’t it say ' the king ’? ’’ asked Flavia, 
leaning over my shoulder, so that the ripple of her 
hair played on my cheek. Is it a hoax? ” 

^^As you value life, and more than life, my 
queen,” I said, obey it to the very letter. A regi- 
ment shall camp round your house to-day. See 
that you do not go out unless well guarded.” 

‘‘An order, sire?” she asked, a little rebellious. 

“ Yes, an order, madame — if you love me.” 

“Ah! ” she cried; and I could not but kiss her. 

“ You know who sent it? ” she asked. 

“ I guess,” said I. “ It is from a good friend — = 
and, I fear, an unhappy woman. You must be ill, 
Flavia, and unable to go to Zenda. Make your 
excuses as cold and formal as you like.” 

“ So you feel strong enough to anger Michael? ’’ 
she said, with a proud smile. 

“ Fm strong enough for anything while you are 
safe,” said I. 


HUNTING A VERY BIG BOAR. 


147 


Soon I tore myself away from her, and then, 
without consulting Sapt, I took my way to the 
house of Marshal Strakencz. I had seen some- 
thing of the old general, and I liked and trusted 
him. Sapt was less enthusiastic, but I had learned 
by now that Sapt was best pleased when he could 
do everything, and jealousy played some part in 
his views. As things were now I had more work 
than Sapt and Fritz could manage, for they must 
come with me to Zeiida, and I wanted a man to 
guard what I loved most in all the world, and suffer 
me to set about my task of releasing the king with 
a quiet mind. 

The marshal received me with most loyal kind- 
ness. To some extent I took him into my confi- 
dence. I charged him with the care of the 
princess, looking him full and significantly in the 
face as I bade him let no one from her cousin the 
duke approach her, unless he himself were there 
and a dozen of his men with him. 

‘‘ You may be right, sire,’’ said he, shaking his 
gray head sadly. I have known better men than 
the duke do worse things than that for love.” 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA, 


1^48 

I could quite appreciate the remark, but I 
said: 

'' There’s something besides love, marshah 
Love’s for the heart; is there nothing my brother 
might like for his head? ” 

'' I pray that you wrong him, sire.” 

Marshal, I’m leaving Strelsau for a few days. 
Every evening I will send a courier to you. If for 
three days none comes you will publish an order 
which I will give you, depriving Duke Michael of 
the governorship of Strelsau and appointing you 
in his place. You will declare a state of siege. 
Then you will send word to Michael that you de= 

mand an audience of the king You follow 

me?” 

'' Aye, sire.” 

'' In twenty-four hours. If he does not produce 
the king ” — I laid my hand on his knee--^^' then 
the king is dead, and you will proclaim the next 
heir. You know who that is? ” 

The Princess Flavia.” 

And swear to me, on your faith and honor, 
and by the fear of the living God, that you will 


HUNTING A VERY BIG BOAR. 


149 


Stand by her to your death, and kill that reptile^ 
and seat her where I sit now/’ 

‘‘ On my faith and honor, and by the fear of 
God, I swear it! And may Almighty God pre= 
serve your Majesty, for I think that you go on an 
errand of danger.” 

I hope that no life more precious than mine 
may be demanded,” said I, rising. Then I held 
out my hand to him. 

'' Marshal,” I said, in days to come it may be— 
I know not — that you will hear strange things of 
the man who speaks to you now. Let him be 
what he may, and who he may, what say you of the 
manner in which he has borne himself as king in 
Strelsau? ” 

The old man, holding my hand, spoke to me^ 
man to man. 

'' I have known many of the Elphbergs,” said 
he, '' and I have seen you. And, happen what 
may, you have borne yourself as a wise king and a. 
brave man; aye, and you have proved as courteous 
a gentleman and as gallant a lover as any that ha¥@ 
been of the House.” 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDM. 


“ Be that my epitaph,” said I, “ when thr time 
come that another sits on the throne of Ruritania.” 

“ God send a far day, and may I not see it! ” said 
he. 

I was much moved, and the marshal’s worn face 
twitched. I sat down and wrote my order. 

” I can hardly yet write,” said I; “ my finger is 
stiff still.” 

It was, in fact, the first time that I had ventured 
to write more than a signature ; and, in spite of the 
pains I had taken to learn the king’s hand, I was 
not yet perfect in it. 

“ Indeed, sire,” he said, “ it differs a little from 
your ordinary handwriting. It is unfortunate, for 
it may lead to a suspicion of forgery.” 

“ Marshal,” said I, with a laugh, “ what use are 
the guns of Strelsau if they can’t assuage a little 
suspicion? ” 

He smiled grimly and took the paper. 

“ Colonel Sapt and Fritz von Tarlenheim go 
with me,” I continued. 

“ You go to seek the duke? ” he asked in a low 


tone. 


HUNTING A VERY BIG BOAR, 


151 


‘‘ Yes, the duke, and someone else of whom I 
have need and who is at Zenda,’’ I replied. 

I wish I could go with you,” he cried, tugging 
at his white mustache. ‘‘ Td like to strike a blow 
for you and your crown.” 

‘‘ I leave you what is more than my life and more 
than my crown,” said I, ‘‘ because you are the man 
I trust more than all others in Ruritania.” 

I will deliver her to you safe and sound,” said 
he, and, failing that, I will make her queen.” 

We parted, and I returned to the palace and told 
Sapt and Fritz what I had done. Sapt had a few 
faults to find and a few grumbles to utter. This 
was merely what I expected, for Sapt liked to be 
consulted beforehand, not informed afterward; on 
the whole, he approved of my plans, and his spirits 
rose high as the hour of action drew nearer and 
nearer. Fritz, too, was ready; though he, poor 
fellow, risked more than Sapt did, for he was a 
lover, and his happiness hung in the scale. Yet 
how I envied him! For the triumphant issue 
which would crown him with happiness and unite 
him to his mistress, the success for which we were 


152 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


bound to hope and strive and struggle, meant to 
me sorrow more certain and greater than if I were 
doomed to fail. He understood something of this, 
for, when we were alone (save for old Sapt, who 
was smoking at the other end of the room), he 
passed his arm through mine, saying: 

“ It’s hard for you. Don’t think I don’t trust 
you; I know you have nothing but true thoughts 
In your heart.” 

But I turned away from him, thankful that he 
could not see what my heart held, but only 
be witness to the deeds that my hands were 
to do. 

Yet even he did not understand, for he had not 
dared to lift his eyes to the Princess Flavia, as I had 
lifted mine. 

Our plans were now all made, even as we pro- 
ceeded to carry them out, and as they will hereafter 
appear. The next morning we were to start on the 
bunting excursion. I had made all arrangements 
for being absent, and now there was only one thing 
left to do — the hardest, the most heart-breaking. 
As evening fell I drove through the busy streets to 


HUNTING A VERY BIG BOAR, 


153 


Flavians residence. I was recognized as I went, 
and heartily cheered. I played my part, and made 
shift to look the happy lover. In spite of my de- 
pression I was almost amused at the coolness and 
delicate hauteur with which my sweet love re- 
ceived me. She had heard that the king was leav- 
ing Strelsau on a hunting expedition. 

I regret that we cannot amuse your Majesty 
here in Strelsau,” she said, tapping her foot lightly 
on the floor. I would have offered you more 
entertainment, but I was foolish enough to 
think ” 

Well, what? ” I asked, leaning over her. 

That for just a day or two, after — after last 
night— you might be happy without much 
gayety; ” and she turned pettishly from me, as she 
added, I hope the boars will be more engross- 
ing.” 

Fm going after a very big boar,” said I; and, 
because I could not help it, I began to play with 
her hair, but she moved her head away. 

Are you offended with me? ” I asked in feigned 
surprise, for I could not resist tormenting her a 


154 


THE PRISONER OP ZENDA. 


little. I had never seen her angry, and every fresh 
aspect of her was a delight to me. 

“ What right have I to be offended? True, you 
said last night that every hour away from me was 
wasted. But a very big boar! that’s a different 
thing.” 

Perhaps the boar will hunt me,” I suggested. 

Perhaps, Flavia, he’ll catch me.” 

She made no answer. 

You are not touched even by that danger?” 

Still she said nothing; and I, stealing round, 
found her eyes full of tears. 

''You weep for my danger?” 

Then she spoke, very low: 

" This is like what you used to be; but not like 
the king — the king I — I have come to love ! ” 

With a sudden great groan I caught her to my 
heart. 

"My darling!” I cried, forgetting everything 
but her, " did you dream that I left you to go 
hunting? ” 

" What then, Rudolf ? Ah ! you’re not go-* 
ing ” 


HUNTING A VERY BIG BOAR. 


155 


it is hunting. I go to seek Michael in 

his lair.” 

She had turned very pale. 

So you see, sweet, I was not so poor a lover bs 
you thought me. I shall not be long gone.” 

You will write to me, Rudolf? ” 

I was weak, but I could not say a word to stir 
suspicion in her. 

‘‘ I’ll send you all my heart every day,” 
said I. 

And you’ll run no danger? ” 

None that I need not.” 

And when will you be back? Ah, how long it 
will be!” 

‘'When shall I be back?” I repeated. 

“ Yes, yes! Don’t be long, dear, don’t be longo 
I shan’t sleep while you’re away.” 

“ I don’t know when I shall be back,” said I. 

“ Soon, Rudolf, soon? ” 

“ God knows, my darling. But if never ” 

“ Hush, hush ! ” and she pressed her lips to 
mine. 

“ If never,” I whispered, “ you must take my 


156 THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 

jp>lace; you’ll be the only one of the House then. 
You must reign, and not weep for me.” 

For a moment she drew herself up like a very 
queen. 

“Yes, I will! ” she said. “ I will reign. I will 
«io my part. Though all my life will be empty and 
my heart dead, yet I’ll do it! ” 

She paused, and sinking against me again, 
wailed softly: 

“ Come soon! come soon! ” 

Carried away, I cried loudly: 

“As God lives, I — yes, I myself — will see you 
once more before I die! ” 

“ What do you mean? ” she exclaimed with 
wondering eyes; but I had no answer for her, and 
she gazed at me with her wondering eyes. 

I dared not ask her to forget; she would have 
found it an insult. I could not tell her then who 
and what I was. She was weeping, and I had but 
to dry her tears. 

“ Shall a man not come back to the loveliest 
lady in all the wide world? ” said I. “ A thousand 
Michaels should not keep me from you! ” 


\ 


HUNTING A VERY BIG BOAR. 


*Sf 

She clung to me a little comforted. 

You won’t let Michael hurt you? ” 

No, sweetheart.” 

Or keep you from me? ” 

No, sweetheart.” 

Nor anyone else? ” 

And again I answered: 

No, sweetheart.” 

Yet there was one — not Michael — ^who, if he 
lived, must keep me from her; and for whose life 
I was going forth to stake my own. And his 
figure — the lithe, buoyant figure I had met in the 
woods of Zenda — the dull, inert mass I had left in 
the cellar of the shooting lodge — seemed to rise, 
double-shaped, before me, and to come between 
us, thrusting itself in even where she lay, pale, ex- 
hausted, fainting, in my arms, and yet looking up 
at me with those eyes that bore such love as I have 
never seen, and haunt me now, and will till the 
ground closes over me — and (who knows?) per* 
haps beyondo 


CHAPTER XII. 


1 RECEIVE A VISITOR AND BAIT A HOOK, 

About five miles from Zenda, on the opposite 
side from that on which the castle was situated, 
there lies a large tract of wood. It is rising 
ground and in the center of the demesne, on the 
top of the hill, stands a fine modern chateau, the 
property of a distant kinsman of Fritz’s, the Count 
Stanislas von Tarlenheim. Count Stanislas him- 
self was a student and a recluse. He seldom vis- 
ited the house, and had, on Fritz’s request, very 
readily and courteously offered me its hospitality 
for myself and my party. This, then, was our des- 
tination; chosen ostensibly for the sake of the boar 
hunting (for the wood was carefully preserved, and 
boars, once common all over Ruritania, were still 
to be found there in considerable numbers), really 
because it brought us within striking distance of 
the Duke of Strelsau’s more magnificent dwelling 

ssS 


S RECEIl^E A VISITOR AND BAIT A HOOK, I59 


on the other side of the town. A large party of 
servants, with horses and luggage, started early in 
the morning; we followed at midday, traveling by 
train for thirty miles, and then mounting our horses 
to ride the remaining distance to the chateau. 

We were a gallant party. Besides Sapt and 
Fritz, I was accompanied by ten gentlemen. 
Every one of them had been carefully chosen, and 
no less carefully sounded by my two friends, and 
all were devotedly attached to the person of the 
king. They were told a part of the truth. The 
attempt on my life in the summerhouse was re- 
vealed to them as a spur to their loyalty and an 
indictment against Michael. They were also in- 
formed that a friend of the king’s was suspected 
to be forcibly confined within the castle of Zenda. 
His rescue was one of the objects of the expedi- 
tion; but, it was added, the king’s main desire was 
to carry into effect certain steps against his treach- 
erous brother, as to the precise nature of which 
they could not at present be further enlightened. 
Enough that the king commanded their services 
and would rely on their devotion when occasion 


a6o THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 

arose to call for it. Young, well-bred, brave, and 
loyal, they asked no more. They were ready to 
prove their dutiful obedience, and prayed for a 
fight as the best and most exhilarating mode of 
showing it. 

Thus the scene was shifted from Strelsau to the 
chateau of Tarlenheim and castle of Zenda, which 
frowned at us across the valley. I tried to shift 
my thoughts also, to forget my love, and to bend 
all my energies to the task before me. It was to 
get the king out of the castle alive. Force was 
useless: in some trick lay the chance; and I had 
already an inkling of what we must do. But I was 
terribly hampered by the publicity which attended 
my movements. Michael must know by now of 
my expedition; and I knew Michael too well to 
suppose that his eyes would be blinded by the feint 
of the boar hunt. He would understand very well 
what the real quarry was. That, however, must 
beVisked — that and all it might mean; for Sapt, no 
less than myself, recognized that the present state 
of things had become unendurable. And there 
was one thing that I dared to calculate on — not^, 


;./ RECEIVE A VISITOR AND BAIT A HOOK, i6x 

as I now know, without warrant. It was this — = 
that Black Michael would not believe that I meant 
well by the king. He could not appreciate — I will 
not say an honest man, for the thoughts of my own 
heart have been revealed — but a man acting hon- 
estly. He saw my opportunity as I had seen it, 
as Sapt had seen it; he knew the princess — nay 
(and I declare that a sneaking sort of pity for him 
invaded me), in his way he loved her; he would 
think that Sapt and Fritz could be bribed, so the 
bribe were large enough. Thinking thus, would 
he kill the king, my rival and my danger? Aye, 
verily, that he would, with as little compunction as 
he would kill a rat. But he would kill Rudolf Ras- 
sendyll first, if he could; and nothing but the cer- 
tainty of being utterly damned by the release of 
the king alive and his restoration to the throne 
would drive him to throw away the trump card 
which he held in reserve to balk the supposed game 
of the impudent impostor Rassendyll. Musing on 
all this as I rode along, I took courage. 

Michael knew of my coming, sure enough. I 
had not been in the house an hour when an impose 


i 62 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


ing embassy arrived from him. He did not quite 
reach the impudence of sending my would-be 
assassins, but he sent the other three of his famous 
Six — the three Ruritanian gentlemen — Lauen- 
gram, Krafstein, and Rupert Hentzau. A fine, 
strapping trio they were, splendidly horsed and 
admirably equipped. Young Rupert, who looked 
a dare-devil, and could not have been more than 
twenty-two or twenty-three, took the lead, and 
made us the neatest speech, wherein my devoted 
subject and loving brother, Michael of Strelsau, 
prayed me to pardon him for not paying his ad- 
dresses in person, and, further, for not putting his 
castle at my disposal; the reason for both of these 
apparent derelictions being that he and several of 
his servants lay sick of scarlet fever, and were in a 
very sad, and, also a very infectious state. So de- 
clared young Rupert with an insolent smile on his 
curling upper lip and a toss of his thick hair — he 
was a handsome villain, and the gossip ran that 
many a lady had troubled her heart for him 
already. 

If my brother has scarlet fever,’’ said I, he is 


S RECEIVE A VISITOR AND BAIT A HOOK. i6j 

iiearer my complexion than he is wont to be, my 
lord. I trust he does not suffer? ” 

He is able to attend to his affairs, sire.^’ 

I hope all beneath your roof are not sick. 
What of my good friends De Gautet, Bersonin, and 
Detchard? I heard the last had suffered a hurt.^^ 

Lauengram and Krafstein looked glum and un- 
easy, but young Rupert’s smile grew broader. 

He hopes soon to find a medicine for it, sire,’^ 
he answered. 

And I burst out laughing, for I knew what medi- 
cine Detchard longed for — it is called Revenge. 
You will dine with us, gentlemen? ” I asked. 

Young Rupert was profuse in apologies. They 
had urgent duties at the castle. 

Then,’’ said I, with a wave of my hand, to 
our next meeting, gentlemen. May it make us 
better acquainted! ” 

We will pray your Majesty for an early oppor- 
tunity,” quoth Rupert airily; and he strode past 
Sapt with such jeering scorn on his face that I saw 
the old fellow clench his fist and scowl black as 
night. 


k 64 the prisoner OF ZENDA. 

For my part, if a man must needs be a knave 1 
would have him a debonair knave, and I liked Ru- 
pert Hentzau better than his long-faced, close- 
eyed companions. It makes your sin no worse^ 
as I conceive, to do it a la mode and stylishly. 

Now it was a curious thing that on this first 
night, instead of eating the excellent dinner my 
cooks had prepared for me, I must needs leave my 
gentlemen to eat it alone, under Sapt’s presiding 
care, and ride myself with Fritz to the town of 
Zenda and a certain little inn that I knew of. 
There was little danger in the excursion; the even- 
ings were long and light, and the road this side of 
Zenda well frequented. So off we rode, with a 
groom behind us. I muffled myself up in a big 
cloak. 

Fritz,” said I as we entered the town, there^s 
an uncommonly pretty girl at this inn.” 

How do you know? ” he asked. 

Because Fve been there,” said I. 

Since ” he began. 

No. Before,” said I. 

But they’ll recognize you?” 


1 RECEIVE A VISITOR AND BAIT A HOOK. i6S 

“ Well, of course they will. Now don’t argue, 
my good fellow, but listen to me. We’re two 
gentlemen of the king’s household, and one of us 
has a toothache. The other will order a private 
room and dinner, and further, a bottle of the best 
wine for the suliferer. And if he be as clever a fel- 
low as I take him for, the pretty girl and no other 
will wait on us.” 

“ What if she won’t? ” objected Fritz. 

“ My dear Fritz,” said I, “ if she won’t for you 
she will for me.” 

We were at the inn. Nothing of me but my 
eyes was visible as I walked in. The landlady re- 
ceived us; two minutes later my little friend (ever, 
I fear me, on the lookout for such guests as might 
prove amusing) made her appearance. Din- 
ner and the wine were ordered. I sat down 
in the private room. A minute after Fritz 
came in. 

“ She’s coming,” he said. 

“ If she were not I should have to doubt the 
Countess Helga’s taste.” 

She came in. I gave her time to set the wine 


i66 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


down — I didn’t want it dropped. Fritz poured 
out a glass and gave it to me. 

“ Is the gentleman in great pain? ” the girl asked 
sympathetically. 

“ The gentleman is no worse than when he saw 
you last,” said I, throwing away my cloak. 

She started with a little shriek. Then she cried: 

“ It was the king, then! I told mother so the 
minute I saw his picture. Oh, sir, forgive me!” 

“ Faith, you gave me nothing that hurt much,” 
said I. 

“ But the things we said! ” 

“ I forgive them for the thing you did.” 

“ I must go and tell mother.” 

“ Stop,” said I, assuming a graver air. “ We 
are not here for sport to-night. Go and bring din- 
ner, and not a word of the king being here.” 

She came back in a few minutes, looking grave, 
yet very curious. 

“ Well, how is Johann? ” I asked, beginning my 
dinner. 

“ Oh, that fellow, sir — my lord king, I mean!” 

“ ‘ Sir ’ will do, please. How is he? ” 


/ RECEIVE A irimOR AND BAIT A HOOK, 

“ We hardly see him now, sir! ” 

“ And why not? ” 

“ I told him he came too often, sir,” said she, 
tosing her head. 

“ So he sulks and stays away? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ But you could bring him back? ” I suggested, 
with a smile. 

“ Perhaps I could,” said she. 

“ I know your powers, you see,” said I, and she 
blushed with pleasure. 

“ It’s not only that, sir, that keeps him away. 
He’s very busy at the castle now.” 

“ But there’s no shooting on now.” 

” No, sir; but he’s in charge of the house.” 

“ Johann turned housemaid? ” 

The little girl was brimming over with gossip. 

“ Well, there are no others,” said she. “ There’s 
not a woman there — not as a servant, I mean. 
They do say — ^but perhaps it’s false, sir.” 

“ Let’s have it for what it’s worth,” said L 

“ Indeed, I’m ashamed to tell you, sir.” 

“ Oh, seel I’m looking at the ceiling.” 


x68 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


“ They do say there is a lady there, sir; but, ex^ 
cept for her, there’s not a woman in the place. 
And Johann has to wait on the gentlemen.” 

“ Poor Johann! He must be overworked. Yet 
I’m sure he could find half an hour to come and see 
you.” 

“ It would depend on the time, sir, perhaps.” 

“ Do you love him? ” I asked. 

Not I, sir.” 

“ And you wish to serve the king? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Then tell him to meet you at the second mile- 
stone out of Zenda, to-morrow evening at ten 
o’clock. Say you’ll be there and will walk home 
with him.” 

“ Do you mean him harm, sir? ” 

“ Not if he will do as I bid him. But I think 
I’ve told you enough, my pretty maid. See that 
you do as I bid you. And, mind, no one is to 
know that the king has been here.” 

I spoke a little sternly, for there is seldom harm 
in infusing a little fear into a woman’s liking for 
you, and I softened the effect by giving her a hand- 


/ RECEIVE A VISITOR AND BAIT A HOOK. 169 

some present. Then we dined, and wrapping my 
cloak about my face, with Fritz leading the way, 
we went downstairs to our horses again. 

It was but half-past eight, and hardly yet dark; 
the streets were full for such a quiet little place, and 
I could see that gossip was all agog. With the 
king on one side and the duke on the other, Zenda 
felt itself the center of all Ruritania. We jogged 
gently through the town, but set our horses to a 
sharper pace when we reached the open country. 

You want to catch this fellow Johann? ’’ asked 
Fritz. 

'' Aye, and I fancy I’ve baited the hook righto 
Our little Delilah will bring our Samson. It is not 
enough, Fritz, to have no women in a house, 
though brother Michael shows some wisdom thereo 
If you want safety you must have none within fifty 
miles.” 

None nearer than Strelsau, for instance,” said 
poor Fritz, with a lovelorn sigh. 

We reached the avenue of the chateau, and were 
soon at the house. As the hoofs of our horses 
sounded on the gravel Sapt rushed out to meet ua 


170 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDH. 


“Thank God, you’re safe!’’ he cried. “Have 
you seen anything of them? ” 

“ Of whom? ’’ I asked, dismounting. 

He drew us aside, that the grooms might not 
hear. 

“ Lad,” he said to me, “ you must not ride about 
here unless with half a dozen of us. You know 
among our men a tall young fellow, Bernenstein 
by name? ” 

I knew him. He was a fine, strapping young 
man, almost of my height, and of light complexion. 

“ He lies in his room upstairs, with a bullet 
through his arm.” 

“ The deuce he does! ” 

“ After dinner he strolled out alone, and went a 
mile or so into the wood; and as he walked he 
thought he saw three men among the trees; and 
one leveled a gun at him. He had no weapon, and 
he started at a run back toward the house. But 
one of them fired, and he was hit, and had much 
ado to reach here before he fainted. By good 
iuck, they feared to pursue him nearer the house.” 

He paused, and added: 


/ RECEIVE A VISITOR AND BAIT A HOOK. I?* 


“ Lad, the bullet was meant for you.” 

“ It is very likely,” said I, “ and it’s first blood to 
brother Michael.” 

“ I wonder which three it was,” said Fritz. 

“ Well, Sapt,” I said, “ I went out to-night for 
no idle purpose, as you shall hear. But there’s one 
thing in my mind.” 

“ What’s that? ” he asked. 

“ Why, this,” I answered. “ That I shall ill re- 
quite the very great honors Ruritania has done me 
if I depart from it leaving one of those Six alive— 
neither, with the help of God, will I.” 

And Sapt shook my hand on that. 


CHAPTER XIIL 


AN IMPROVEMENT ON JACOB’S LADDERo 

In the morning of the day after that on which I 
swore my oath against the Six I gave certain 
orders and then rested in greater contentment 
than I had known for some time. I was at work; 
and work, though it cannot cure love, is yet a nar- 
cotic to it. So that Sapt, who grew feverish, mar- 
veled to see me sprawling in an armchair in the 
sunshine, listening to one of my friends who sang 
me amorous songs m a mellow voice and induced 
in me a pleasing melancholy. Thus was I engaged 
when young Rupert Hentzau, who feared neither 
man nor devil, and rode through the demesne — 
where every tree might hide a marksman, for all 
he knew — as though it had been the park at Strel- 
sau, cantered up to where I lay, bowing with 
burlesque deference, and craving private speech 
with me in order to deliver a message from the 


AN IMPROVEMENT ON JACOBIS LADDER, i73 

Duke of Strelsau. I made all withdraw, and then 
he said, seating himself by me: 

The king is in love, it seems? 

Not with life, my lord,’’ said I, smiling. 

It is well,’' he rejoined. '' Come, we are alone. 

Rassendyll ” 

I rose to a sitting posture. 

What’s the matter? ” he asked. 

I was about to call one of my gentlemen to 
bring your horse, my lord. If you dO' not know 
how to address the king my brother must find an- 
other messenger.” 

Why keep up the farce? ” he asked, negligently 
dusting his boot with his glove. 

Because it is not finished yet; and meanwhile 
I’ll choose my own name.” 

Oh, so be it! Yet I spoke in love for you; for 
indeed you are a man after my own heart.” 

Saving my poor honesty,” said I, '' maybe I 
am. But that I keep faith with men, and honor 
with women, maybe I am, my lord.” 

He darted a glance at me^ — a glance of angen 

Is your mother dead? ” said I, 


*74 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA, 


“ Aye, she’s dead.” ' 

“ She may thank God,” said I, and I heard him 
curse me softly. “ Well, what’s the message? ” I 
continued. 

I had touched him in the raw, for all the world 
knew he had broken his mother’s heart and 
flaunted his mistresses in her house; and his airy 
manner was gone for the moment. 

“ The duke offers you more than I would,” he 
growled. “ A halter for you, sire, was my sugges- 
tion. But he offci you safe-conduct across <vhe 
frontier and a million crowns.” 

” I prefer your offer, my lord, if I am bound to 
one.” 

” You refuse? ” 

“ Of course.” 

“ I told Michael you would; ” and the villain, his 
temper restored, gave me the sunniest of smiles. 
” The fact is, between ourselves,” he continued, 
“ Michael doesn’t understand a gentleman.” 

I began to laugh. 

“ And you? ” I asked. 

“ I do,” he said. “ Well, well, the halter be it! ” 


AN IMPROVEMENT ON JACOBIS LADDER, 17 5 

I^m sorry you won’t live to see it,” I observed. 

Has his Majesty done me the honor to fasten a 
particular quarrel on me? ” 

I would you were a few years older, though.” 

Oh, God gives years, but the devil gives in- 
crease,” laughed he. I can hold my own.” 

How is your prisoner? ” I asked. 

The k ” 

Your prisoner.” 

I forgot your wishes, sire. Well, he is alive.” 

He rose to his feet; I imitated him. Then, with 
a smile, he said: 

And the pretty princess? Faith, I’ll wager the 
next Elphberg will be red enough, for all that 
Black Michael will be called his father.” 

I sprang a step toward him, clenching my hand. 
He did not move an inch, and his lip curled in inso- 
lent amusement. 

Go, while your skin’s whole!” I muttered. 
He had repaid me with interest my hit about his 
mother. 

Then came the most audacious thing I have 
known in my life. My friends were some thirty 


176 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


yards away. Rupert called to a groom to bring 
him his horse, and dismissed the fellow with a 
crown. The horse stood near. I stood still, sus- 
pecting nothing. Rupert made as though to 
mount; then he suddenly turned to me, his left 
hand resting on his belt, his right outstretched: 

Shake hands,’’ he said. 

I bowed, and did as he had foreseen — I put my 
hands behind me. Quicker than thought his left 
hand darted out at me, and a small dagger flashed 
in the air; he struck me in the left shoulder — had I 
not swerved it had been my heart. With a cry I 
staggered back. Without touching the stirrup, 
he leaped upon his horse and was off like an arrow, 
pursued by cries and revolver shots, — the last as 
useless as the first, — and I sank into m}*^ chair, 
bleeding profusely, as I watched the devil’s brat 
disappear down the long avenue. My friends sur- 
rounded me, and then I fainted. 

I suppose that I was put to bed, and there lay 
unconscious or half conscious for many hours; for 
it was night when I awoke to my full mind, and 
found Fritz beside me. I was weak and weary^, 


AN IMPROVEMENT ON JACOB’S LADDER. 177 

but he bade me be of good cheer, saying that my 
wound would soon heal, and that meanwhile all 
had gone well, for Johann, the keeper, had fallen 
into the snare we had laid for him, and was even 
now in the house. * 

And the queer thing is,’’ pursued Fritz, that 
I fancy he’s not altogether sorry to find himself 
here. He seems to think that, when Black Michael 
has brought ofif his coup, witnesses of how it was 
effected — saving, of course, the Six themselves — 
will not be at a premium.” 

This idea argued a shrewdness in our captive 
which led me to build hopes on his assistance. I 
ordered him to be brought in at once. Sapt con- 
ducted him, and set him in a chair by my bedside. 
He was sullen and afraid; but, to say truth, after 
young Rupert’s exploit we also had our fears, and 
if he got as far as possible from Sapt’s formidable 
six-shooter, Sapt kept him as far as he could from 
me. Moreover, when he came in his hands were 
bound, but that I would not suffer. 

I need not stay to recount the safeguards and re- 
wards we promised the fellow — all of which were 


«78 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


honorably observed and paid, so that he lives now 
in prosperity (though where I may not mention); 
and we were the more free inasmuch as we soon 
learned that he was rather a weak man than a 
wicked, and had acted throughout this matter 
more from fear of the duke and of his ov/n brother 
Max than for any love of what was done. But he 
had persuaded all of his loyalty; and though not in 
their secret counsels, was yet, by his knowledge of 
their dispositions within the castle, able to lay bare 
before us the very heart of their devices. And 
here, in brief, is his story: 

Below the level of the ground in the castle, ap- 
proached by a flight of stone steps which abutted 
on the end of the drawbridge, were situated two 
small rooms, cut out of the rock itself. The outer 
.of the two had no windows, but was always lighted 
with candles; the inner had one square window, 
which gave upon the moat. In this inner room 
there lay always, day and night, three of the Six; 
and the instructions of Duke Michael were that on 
any attack being made on the outer room the three 
were to defend the door of it so long as they could 


IMPROVEMENT ON JACOBIS LADDER. I79 

without risk to themselves. But so soon as the 
door should be in danger of being forced, then Ru- 
pert Hentzau or Detchard (for one of these two 
was always there) should leave the others to hold 
it as long as they could, and himself pass into the 
inner room, and without more ado kill the king, 
who lay there, well treated indeed, but without 
weapons, and with his arms confined in fine steel 
chains, which did not allow him to move his 
elbow more than three inches from his shoulder. 
Thus, before the outer door were stormed, the king 
would be dead. And his body? For his body 
would be evidence as damning as himself. 

Nay, sir,’’ said Johann, his Highness has 
thought of that. While the two hold the outer 
room the one who has killed the king unlocks the 
bars in the square window (they turn on a hinge). 
The window now gives no light, for its mouth is 
choked by a great pipe of earthenware; and this 
pipe, which is large enough to let pass through it 
the body of a man, passes into the moat, coming to 
an end immediately above the surface of the water, 
so that there is no perceptible interval between 


x 8 o the prisoner OF ZENDA. 

water and pipe. The king being dead, his mur- 
derer swiftly ties a weight to the body, and drag- 
ging it to the window, raises it by a pulley (for, lest 
the weight should prove too great, Detchard has 
provided one) till it is level with the mouth of the 
pipe. He inserts the feet in the pipe, and pushes 
the body down. Silently, without splash or sound, 
it falls into the water and thence to the bottom of 
the moat, which is twenty feet deep thereabouts. 
Tliis done, the murderer cries loudly, ^ All’s well! ’ 
and himself slides down the pipe; and the others, if 
they can and the attack is not too hot, run to the 
inner room and, seeking a moment’s delay, bar the 
door, and in their turn slide down. And though 
the king rises not from the bottom, they rise and 
swim round to the other side, \7here the orders are 
for men to wait them with ropes, to haul them out, 
and horses. And here, if things go ill, the duke 
will join them and seek safety by riding; but if all 
goes well they will return to the castle, and have 
their enemies in a trap. That, sir, is the plan of 
his Highness for the disposal of the king in case of 
need. But it is not to be used till the last; for, as 


1 



V 


%' . 


THE FELLOW^S STORY WAS RUDELY TOLD.”~/>a^tf 181 


mm 



AN IMPROVEMENT ON JACOBIS LADDER. i8s 

we all know, he is not minded to kill the king unless 
he can, before or soon after, kill you also, sin 
Now, sir, I have spoken the truth, as God is my 
witness, and I pray you to shield me from the vem 
geance of Duke Michael; for if, after he knows 
what I have done, I fall into his hands, I shall pray 
for one thing out of all the world — a speedy death, 
and that I shall not obtain from him! ” 

The fellow’s story was rudely told, but our ques-= 
tions supplemented his narrative. What he hard 
told us applied to an armed attack; but if suspi-^ 
cions were aroused and there came overwhelming 
force — such, for instance, as I, the king, could 
bring — the idea of resistance would be abandoned. 
The king would be quietly murdered and slid down 
the pipe. And — here comes an ingenious touch — = 
one of the Six would take his place in the cell, and 
on the entrance of the searchers loudly demand re- 
lease and redress; and Michael, being summoned, 
would confess to hasty action, but he would say 
the man had angered him by seeking the favor of 
a lady in the castle (this was Antoinette de Man- 
ban), and he had confined him there, as he cob- 


i 82 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA, 


ceived he, as Lord of Zenda, had a right to do. 
But he was now, on receiving his apology, content 
to let him go, and so end the gossip which, to his 
Highness’ annoyance, had arisen concerning a pris- 
oner in Zenda, and had give his visitors the trouble 
of this inquiry. The visitors, baffled, would retire, 
and Michael could, at his leisure, dispose of the 
body of the king. 

Sapt, Fritz, and I in my bed looked round on 
one another in horror and bewilderment at the 
cruelty and cunning of the plan. Whether I went 
in peace or in war, openly at the head of a corps, or 
secretly by a stealthy assault, the king would be 
dead before I could come near him. If Michael 
were stronger and overcame my party, there would 
be an end. But if I were stronger, I should have 
no way to punish him, no means of proving any 
guilt in him without proving my own guilt also. 
On the other hand, I should be left as king (ah! for 
a moment my pulse quickened), and it would be for 
the future to witness the final struggle between him 
and me. He seemed to have made triumph pos- 
sible and ruin impossible. At the worst he would 


/IN IMPROVEMENT ON JACOBIS LADDER. 183 

Stand where he had stood before I crossed his path 
— with but one man between him and the throne, 
and that man an impostor; at best there would be 
none left to stand against him. I had begun to 
think that Black Michael was overfond of leaving 
the fighting to his friends; but now I acknowledged 
that the brains, if not the arms, of the conspiracy 
were his. 

Does the king know this? ’’ I asked. 

I and my brother,” answered Johann, ‘‘ put up 
the pipe, under the orders of my Lord of Hentzau. 
He was on guard that day, and the king asked my 
lord what it meant. ‘ Faith,’ he answered, with his 
airy laugh, ^ it’s a new improvement on the ladder 
of Jacob, whereby, as you have read, sire, men pass 
from earth to heaven. We thought it not meet 
that your Majesty should go, in case, sire, you must 
go, by the common route. So we have made you 
a pretty private passage, where the vulgar cannot 
stare at you or incommode your passage. That, 
sire, is the meaning of that pipe.’ And he laughed 
and bowed, and prayed the king’s leave to replenish 
the king’s glass — for the king was at supper. And 


THE PRISONER OP ZENDA. 


the king, though he is a brave man, as are all of his 
House, grew red and then white as he looked on 
the pipe and at the merry devil who mocked him. 
Ah, sir,” — and the fellow shuddered, — “ it is not 
easy to sleep quiet in the castle of Zenda, for all of 
them would as soon cut a man’s throat as play a 
game at cards; and my Lord Rupert would choose 
it sooner for a pastime than any other — aye, sooner 
than he would ruin a woman, though that he loves 
also.” 

The man ceased, and I bade Fritz take him away 
and have him carefully guarded; and, turning to 
him, I added: 

“ If anyone asks you if there is a prisoner in 
Zenda you may answer ‘ Yes.’ But if any asks 
who the prisoner is, do not answer. For all my 
promises will not save you if any man here learns 
from you the truth as to the prisoner in Zenda. 
I’ll kill you like a dog if the thing be so much as 
breathed within the house ! ” 

Then, when he was gone, I looked at Sapt. 

“ It is a hard nut! ” said I. 

“ So hard,” said he, shaking his grizzled head. 


AN IMPROVEMENT ON JACOBIS LADDER. 3S§ 

that, as I think, this time next year is like to find 
you still King of Ruritania!’’ and he broke out 
into curses on Michael’s cunning. 

I lay back on my pillows. 

‘‘ There seem to me,” I observed, to be two 
ways by which the king can come out of Zenda 
alive. One is by treachery in the duke’s followers.^^ 
‘‘ You can leave that out,” said Sapt. 

I hope not,” I rejoined, because the other 
I was about to mention is — ^by a miracle from 
Heaven ! ” 


CHAPTER XIV. 


A NIGHT OUTSIDE THE CASTLE. 

It would have surprised the good people of 
Ruritania to know the foregoing talk; for, accord- 
ing to the official reports, I had suffered ,a grievous 
and dangerous hurt from an accidental spear 
thrust, received in the course of my sport. I 
caused the bulletins to be of a very serious char- 
acter, and created great public excitement whereby 
three things occurred: first, I gravely offended 
the medical faculty of Strelsau by refusing to 
summon to my bedside any of them save a 
young man, a friend of Fritz’s, whom we could 
trust; secondly, I received word from Marshal 
Strakencz that my orders seemed to have no 
more weight than his, and that the Princess 
Flavia was leaving for the Tarlenheim under his 
unwilling escort (news whereat I strove not to be 
glad and proud) ; and thirdly, my brother, the Duke 

s86 


' A NIGHT OUTSIDE THE CASTLE. 

of Strelsau, although too well informed to believe 
the account of the origin of my sickness, was yet 
persuaded by the reports and by my seeming inac- 
tivity that I was in truth incapable of action, and 
that my life was in some danger. This I learned 
from the man Johann, whom I was compelled to 
trust and send back to Zenda, where, by the way, 
Rupert Hentzau had him soundly flogged for dar- 
ing to smirch the morals of Zenda by staying out 
all night in the pursuits of love. This, from Ru- 
pert, Johann deeply resented, and the duke’s ap- 
proval of it did more to bind the keeper to my side 
than all my promises. 

On Flavians arrival I cannot dwell. Her joy at 
finding me up and well, instead of on my back and 
fighting with death, makes a picture that even now 
dances before my eyes till they grow too dim to 
see it; and her reproaches that I had not trusted 
even her must excuse the means I took to quiet 
them. In truth, to have her with me once more 
was like a taste of heaven to a damned soul, the 
sweeter for the inevitable doom that was to follow; 
and I rejoiced in being able to waste two whole 


THE PRISONER OF Zc^NDA. 


days with her. And when I had wasted two days 
the Duke of Strelsau arranged a hunting party. 

The stroke was near now. For Sapt and I, after 
anxious consultations, had resolved that we must 
risk a blow; our resolution being clinched by 
Johann’s news that the king grew peaked, pale, and 
ill, and that his health was breaking down under his 
rigorous confinement. Now a man — be he king or 
no king — may as well die swiftly, and, as becomes 
a gentleman, from bullet or thrust, as rot his life out 
in a cellar! That thought made prompt action ad- 
visable in the interests of the king; from my own 
point of view it grew more and more necessary. 
For Strakencz urged on me the need of a speedy 
marriage, and my own inclinations seconded him 
with such terrible insistence that I feared for my 
resolution. I do not believe that I should have 
done the deed I dreamt of; but I might have come 
to flight, and my flight would have ruined the 
cause. And — ^yes, I am no saint {ask my little sis- 
ter-in-law) — and worse still might have happened. 

It is perhaps as strange a thing as has ever been 
m the history of a country that the king’s brother 


A NIGHT OUTSIDE THE CASTLE. 189 

and the king’s personator, in a time of profound 
outward peace, near a placid, undisturbed country 
town, under semblance of amity, should wage a 
desperate war for the person and life of the king. 
Yet such was the struggle that began 
Zenda and Tarlenheim. When I look r :: : 
time I seem to myself to have been half 
has told me that I suffered no interference ana lis- 
tened to no remonstrances; and if ever a King of 
Ruritania ruled like a despot I was, in those days, 
the man. Look where I would I saw nothing that 
made life sweet to me, and I took my life in my 
hand and carried it carelessly as a man dangles an 
old glove. At first they strove to guard me, to 
keep me safe, to persuade me not to expose myself; 
but when they saw how I was set there grew up 
among them — whether they knew the truth or not 
— a feeling that Fate ruled the issue, and that I 
must be left to play my game with Michael my own 
way. 

Late next night I rose from table, where Flavia 
had sat by me, and conducted her to the door of her 
apartments. There I kissed her handy and bade 


X 90 , THE PRISONER OF ZEN DA. 

..jr sleep sound and wake to happy days. Then 
I changed my clothes and went out. Sapt and 
Fritz were waiting for me with three m i and the 
horses. Over his saddle Sapt carried a long coil of 
rope, and both were heavily armed. I had with me 
a short stout cudgel and a long knife. Making a 
circuit, we avoided the town, and in an hour found 
ourselves slowly mounting the hill that led to the 
castle of Zenda. The night was dark and very 
stormy; gusts of wind and spits of rain caught us as 
we breasted the incline, and the great trees moaned 
and sighed. When we came to a thick clump, 
about a quarter of a mile from the castle, we bade 
our three friends hide there with the horses. Sapt 
had a whistle, and the^ could rejoin us in a few mo- 
ments if danger came : but up till now we had met 
no one. I hoped that Michael was still off his 
guard, believing me to be safe in bed. However 
that might be, we gained the top of the hill without 
accident, and found ourselves on the edge of the 
moat where it sweeps under the road, separating 
the old castle from it. A tree stood on the edge of 
the bank, and Sapt silently and diligently set to 


A NIGHT OUTSIDE THE CASTLE. igt 

make fast the rope. I stripped off my boots, took 
a pull at a flask of brandy, loosened the knife in its 
sheath, and took the cudgel between my teeth. 
Then I shook hands with my friends, not heeding 
a last look of entreaty from Fritz, and laid hold of 
the rope. I was going to have a look at Jacobis 
ladder. 

Gently I lowered myself into the water. Though 
the night were wild, the day had been warm and 
bright and the water was not cold. I struck out 
and began to swim roun the great walls which 
frowned above me. I could see only three yards 
ahead. I had then good hopes of not being seen, 
as I crept along close under the damp, moss-grown 
masonry. There were lights from the new part of 
the castle on the other side, and now and again I 
heard laughter and merry shouts. I fancied I 
recognized young Rupert Hentzau’s ringing tones, 
and pictured him flushed with wine. Recalling my 
thoughts to the business in hand, I rested a mo- 
ment. If Johann’s description were right I must 
be near the window now. Very slowly I moved; 
and out of the darkness ahead loomed a shape. It 


192 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


was the pipe, curving from the window to the 
water. About two feet of its surface was displayed; 
it was as big round as two men. I was about to 
approach it when I saw something else, and my 
heart stood still. The nose of a boat protruded 
beyond the pipe on the other side; and listening in- 
tently, I heard a slight shuffle — as of a man shifting 
his position. Who was the man who guarded 
Michael’s invention? Was he awake or was he 
asleep? I felt if my knife were ready, and trod 
water. As I did so I found bottom under my feeto 
The foundations of the castle extended some fifteen 
inches, making a ledge; and I stood on it, out of 
water from my armpits upward. Then I crouched 
and peered through the darkness under the pipe, 
where, curving, it left a space. 

There was a man in the boat. A rifle lay by 
him — I saw the gleam of the barrel. Here was the 
sentinel! He sat very still. I listened: he breathed 
heavily, regularly^ monotonously. By Heaven, he 
slept! Kneeling on the shelf, I drew forward under 
the pipe till my face was within two feet of his. He 
was a big man, I saw. It was Max Holf, the 


A NIGHT OUTSIDE THE CASTLE. 


193 


brother of Johann. My hand stole to my belt, and 
I drew out my knife. Of all the deeds of my life I 
love the least to think of this, and whether it was 
the act of a man or a traitor I will not ask. I said 
to myself: ''It is war — and the king's life is the 
stake." And I raised myself from beneath the 
pipe and stood up by the boat, which lay moored 
by the ledge. Holding my breath, I marked the 
spot and raised my arm. The great fellow stirred. 
He opened his eyes — wide, wider. He gasped in 
terror at my face and clutched at his rifle. I struck 
home. And I heard the chorus of a love-song 
from the opposite bank. 

Leaving him where he lay, a huddled mass, I 
turned to "Jacob's ladder." My time was short. 
This fellow's turn of watching might be over di- 
rectly, and relief would come. Leaning over the 
pipe, I examined it, from the point it left the water 
to the topmost extremity where it passed, or 
seemed to pass, through the masonry of the wall. 
There was no break in it, no chink. » Dropping on 
my knees, I tested the under side. And my breath 
went quick and fast, for on this lower side, where 


194 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA, 


the pipe should have clung close to the masonry, 
there was a gleam of light ! That light must come 
from the cell of the king! I set my shoulder 
against the pipe and exerted my strength. The 
chink widened a very, very little, and hastily I de- 
sisted; I had done enough to show that the pipe 
was not fixed in the masonry at the lower side. 

Then I heard a voice — a harsh, grating voice. 

Well, sire, if you have had enough of my 
society I will leave you to repose; but I must fasten 
the little ornaments first.’’ 

It was Detchard! I caught the English accent 
in a moment. 

'' Have you anything to ask, sire, before we 
part?” 

The king’s voice followed. It was his, though 
it was faint and hollow — different from the merry 
tones I had heard in the glades of the forest. 

'' Pray my brother,” said the king, to kill me. 
I am dying by inches here.” 

'' The duke does not desire your death, sire — 
yet,” sneered Detchard; ''when he does, behold 
your path to heaven! ” 


A NIGHT OUTSIDE THE CASTLE. 19S 

The king answered: 

'' So be it ! And now, if your orders allow it, 
pray leave me/’ 

‘‘ May you dream of paradise! ” said the ruffian. 

The light disappeared. I heard the bolts of the 
door run home. And then I heard the sobs of the 
king. He was alone, as he thought. Who dares 
mock at him? 

I did not venture to speak to him. The risk of 
some exclamation escaping him in surprise was too 
great. I dared do nothing that night; and my task 
now was to get myself away in safety, and to carry 
off the carcass of the dead man. To leave him 
there would tell too much. Casting loose the boat, 
I got in. The wind was blowing a gale now, and 
there was little danger of oars being heard. I 
rowed swiftly round to where my friends waited. 
I had just reached the spot when a loud whistle 
sounded over the moat behind me. 

Hullo, Max! ” I heard shouted. 

I hailed Sapt in a low tone. The rope came 
down. I tied it round the corpse, and then went 
up it myself. 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


1:96 

Whistle you, too,’’ I whispered, '' for our meiij 
and haul in the line. No talk now.” 

They hauled up the body. Just as it reached the 
road three men on horseback swept round from the 
front of the castle. We saw them; but, being on 
foot ourselves, we escaped their notice. But we 
heard our men coming up with a shout. 

The devil, but it’s dark! ” cried a ringing voice. 

It was young Rupert. A moment later shots 
rang out. Our people had met them. I started 
forward at a run, Sapt and Fritz following me. 

‘^Thrust, thrust!” cried Rupert again, and a 
loud groan following told that he himself was not 
behindhand. 

I’m done, Rupert! ” cried a voice. They’re 
three to one. Save yourself! ” 

I ran on, holding my cudgel in my hand. Sud- 
denly a horse came toward me. A man was on it, 
leaning over the shoulder. 

Are you cooked too, Krafstein? ” he cried. 

There was no answer. 

I sprang to the horse’s head. It was Rupert 
Hentzau. 


A NIGHT OUTSIDE THE CASTLE. 


197 


last!’’ I cried. 

For we seemed to have him. He had only his 
sword in his hand. My men were hot upon him; 
Sapt and Fritz were running up. I had outstripped 
them; but if they got close enough to fire he must 
die or surrender. 

At last!” I cried. 

It’s the play-actor!” cried he, slashing at my 
cudgel. He cut it clean in two; and, judging dis- 
cretion better than death, I ducked my head and 
(I blush to tell) scampered for my life. The devil 
was in Rupert Hentzau; for he put spurs to his 
horse, and I, turning to look, saw him ride, full 
gallop, to the edge of the moat and leap in, while 
the shots of our party fell thick round him like hail. 
With one gleam of moonlight we should have 
riddled him with balls; but in the darkness he won 
to the corner of the castle, and vanished from our 
sight. 

The deuce take him! ” grinned Sapt. 

'' It’s a pity,” said I, “ that he’s a villain. Whom 
have we got? ” 

We had Lauengram and Krafstein: they lay stiff 


ipS 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


and dead; and, concealment being no longer pos- 
sible, we flung them, with Max, into the moat; and, 
drawing together in a compact body, rode off down 
the hill. And in our midst went the bodies of four 
gallant gentlemen. Thus we traveled home, heavy 
at heart for the death of our friends, sore uneasy 
concerning the king, and cut to the quick that 
young Rupert had played yet another winning 
hand with us. 

For my own part I was vexed and angry that I 
had kiHed no man in open fight, but only stabbed 
a knave in his sleep. And I did not love to hear 
Rupert call me a play-actor. 


CHAPTER XV. 


I TALK WITH A TEMPTER. 

Ruritania is not England, or the quarrel be^ 
tween Duke Michael and myself could not have 
gone on, with the remarkable incidents which 
marked it, without more public notice being di- 
rected to it. Duels were frequent among all the 
upper classes, and private quarrels between great 
men kept the old habit of spreading to their friends 
and dependents. Nevertheless, after the affray 
which I have just related, such reports began to 
circulate that I felt it necessary to be on my guard. 
The death of the gentlemen involved could not be 
hidden from their relatives. I issued a stern order, 
declaring that dueling had attained unprecedented 
license (the chancellor drew up the document for 
me, and very well he did it), and forbidding it save 
in the gravest cases. I sent a public and stately 
apology to Michael, and he returned a deferential 


200 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


and courteous reply to me; for our one point of 
union was — and it underlay all our differences and 
induced an unwilling harmony between our actions 
— that we could neither of us afford to throw our 
cards on the table. He, as well as I, was a “ play- 
actor,” and, hating one another, we combined to 
dupe public opinion. Unfortunately, however, the 
necessity for concealment involved the necessity of 
delay: the king might die in his prison, or even be 
spirited off somewhere else — it could not be helped. 
For a little while I was compelled to observe a 
truce, and my only consolation was that Flavia 
most warmly approved of my edict against dueling; 
and when I expressed delight at having won her 
favor, prayed me, if her favor were any motive to 
me, to prohibit the practice altogether. 

Wait till we are married,” said I, smiling. 

Not the least peculiar result of the truce and of 
the secrecy which dictated it was that the town of 
Zenda became in the daytime — I would not have 
trusted far to its protection by night — a sort of 
neutral zone, where both parties could safely go; 
and I, riding down one day with Flava and Sapt, 


/ TALK IVITH A TEMPTER. 


201 


had an encounter with an acquaintance, which pre-* 
sented a ludicrous side, but was at the same time 
embarrassing. As I rode along I met a dignified- 
looking person driving in a two-horsed carriage. 
He stopped his horses, got out, and approached 
me, bowing low. I recognized the head of the 
Strelsau police. 

Your Majesty’s ordinance as to dueling is re- 
ceiving our best attention,” he assured me. 

If the best attention involved his presence in 
Zenda I determined at once to dispense with it. 

Is that what brings you to Zenda, prefect? ” I 
asked. 

Why, no, sire; I am here because I desired to 
oblige the British ambassador.” 

What’s the British ambassador doing dans 
cette galere? ” said I carelessly. 

A young countryman of his, sire — a man of 
some position — is missing. His friends have not 
heard from him for two months, and there is rea- 
son to believe that he was last seen in Zenda.” 

Flavia was paying little attention. I dared not 
look at Sapt. 


202 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


What reason? 

A friend of his in Paris — a certain M. Featherly 
= — has given us information which makes it pos- 
sible that he came here, and the officials of the rail- 
way recollect his name on some luggage/’ 

What was his name? ” 

Rassendyll, sire,” he answered; and I saw that 
the name meant nothing to him. But, glancing at 
Flavia, he lowered his voice as he went on: It is 
thought that he may have followed a lady here. 
Has your Majesty heard of a certain Mme. de 
Mauban? ” 

Why, yes,” said I, my eye involuntarily travel- 
ing toward the castle. She arrived in Ruritania 
about the same time as this Rassendyll.” 

I caught the prefect’s glance; he was regarding 
me with inquiry writ large on his face. 

Sapt,” said I, '' I must speak a word to the pre- 
fect. Will you ride on a few paces with the prin- 
cess? ” And. I added to the prefect: Come, sir, 
what do you mean? ” 

He drew close to me, and I bent in the saddle. 

If he were in love with the lady? ” he 


! TALK WITH A TEMPTER. 


20 $ 


whispered. Nothing has been heard of him for 
two months; ’’ and this time it was the eye of the 
prefect which traveled toward the castle. 

Yes, the lady is there,’’ I said quietly. '' But 
I don’t suppose Mr. Rassendyll — is that the name? 
—is.” 

The duke,” he whispered, “ does not like rivals, 
sire.” 

You’re right there,” said I, with all sin- 
cerity. But surely you hint at a very grave 
charge.” 

He spread his hands out in apology. I whis- 
pered in his ear: ^ 

This is a grave matter. Go back to Strel- 


But, sire, if I have a clew here? ” 

'' Go back to Strelsau,” I repeated. Tell the 
ambassador that you have a clew, but that you 
must be left alone for a week or two. Mean- 
while I’ll charge myself with looking into the 
matter.” 

The ambassador is very pressing, sire.” 

You must quiet him. Come, sir; you see that, 


S 04 THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 

if your supicions are correct, it is an affair in which 
we must move with caution. We can have no 
scandal. Mind you return to-night.’’ 

He promised to obey me, and I rode on to rejoin 
my companions, a little easier in my mind. In- 
quiries after me must be stopped at all hazards 
for a week or two; and this clever official had come 
surprisingly near the truth. His impression might 
be useful some day, but if he acted on it now it 
might mean the worst to the king. Heartily did 
I curse George Featherly for not holding his 
tongue. 

'' Well,” asked Flavia, have you finished your 
business? ” 

Most satisfactorily,” said I. Come, shall we 
turn round? We are almost trenching on my 
brother’s territory.” 

We were, in fact, at the extreme end of the town, 
just where the hill begins to mount toward the 
castle. We cast our eyes up, admiring the massive 
beauty of the old walls, and we saw a cortege wind- 
ing slowly down the hill. On it came. 

Let us go back,” said Sapt. 


/ TALK IVITH A TEMPTER. 


205 


I should like to stay/’ said Flavia; and I reined 
my horse beside hers. 

We could distinguish the approaching party 
now. There came first two mounted servants in 
black uniforms, relieved only by a silver badge. 
These were followed by a car drawn by four horses: 
on it, under a heavy pall, lay a coffin; behind it rode 
a man in plain black clothes, carrying his hat in 
his hand. Sapt uncovered, and we stood waiting, 
Flavia keeping by me and laying her hand on my 
arm. 

‘‘ It is one of the gentlemen killed in the quarrel, 
I expect,” she said. 

I beckoned to a groom. 

‘‘ Ride and ask vffiom they escort,” I ordered. 

He rode up to the servants, and I saw him pass 
on to the gentleman who rode behind. 

It’s Rupert of Hentzau,” whispered Sapt. 

Rupert it was, and directly afterward, waving to 
the procession to stand still, Rupert trotted up to 
me. He was in a frock coat, tightly buttoned, and 
trousers. He wore an aspect of sadness, and he 
bowed with profound respect. Yet suddenly he 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


smiled, and I smiled too, for old Sapt’s hand 
lay in his left breast pocket, and Rupert and I 
both guessed what lay in the hand inside the 
pocket. 

“ Your Majesty asks whom we escort,” said 
Rupert. “ It is my dear friend Albert of Lauen- 
gram.” 

“ Sir,” said I, “ no one regrets the unfortunate 
affair more than I. My ordinance, which I mean 
to have obeyed, is witness to it.” 

“ Poor fellow ! ” said Flavia softly, and I saw 
Rupert’s eyes flash at her. Whereat I grew red; 
for if I had my way Rupert Hentzau should not 
have defiled her by so much as a glance. Yet he 
did it, and dared to let admiration be seen in his 
look. 

“ Your Majesty’s words are gracious,” he said. 
“ I grieve for my friend. Y et, sire, others must 
soon lie as he lies now.” 

“ It is a thing we all do well to remember, my 
lord,” I rejoined. 

“ Even kings, sire,” said Rupert in a moralizing 
itone; and old Sapt swore softly by my side. 


/ TALK IVITH A TEMPTER. 


It is true/’ said I. '' How fares my brother* 
my lord? ” 

He is better, sire.” 

I am rejoiced.” 

He hopes soon to leave for Strelsau, when his 
health is secured.” 

He is only convalescent, then? ” 

There remain one or two smill troubles,” an- 
swered the insolent fellow in the mildest tone in the 
world. 

Express my earnest hope,” said Flavia, that 
they may soon cease to trouble him.” 

Your Royal Highness’ wish is, humbly, my 
own,” said Rupert with a bold glance that brought 
a blush to Flavia’s cheek. 

I bowed; and Rupert, bowing lower, backed his 
horse and signed his party to proceed. With a 
sudden impulse I rode after him. He turned 
swiftly, fearing that, even in the presence of 
the dead and before a lady’s eyes, I meant mis- 
chief. 

You fought as a brave man the other night,” 
I said. Come, you are young, sir. If you will 


2o8 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


deliver your prisoner alive to me you shall come 
to no hurt.” 

He looked at me with a mocking smile; but sud- 
denly he rode nearer to me. 

“ Fm unarmed,” he said; “and our old Sapt 
there could pick me off in a minute.” 

“ Fm not afraid,” said I. 

“ No, curse you ! ” he answered. “ Look here, 
I made you a proposal from the duke once.” 

“ Fll hear nothing from Black Michael,” 
said I. 

“ Then hear one from me.” He lowered his 
voice to a whisper. “ Attack the castle boldly. 
Let Sapt and Tarlenheim lead.” 

“ Go on,” said I. 

“ Arrange the time with me.” 

“ I have such confidence in you, my lord ! ” 

“Tut! Fm talking business now. Sapt there 
and Fritz will fall; Black Michael will fall ” 

“ What!” 

“ Black Michael will fall, like the dog he is; the 
prisoner, as you call him, will go by Jacob’s lad- 
der — ah, you know that? — to hell! Two men will 


/ TALK mTH A TEMPTER. 




be left — I, Rupert Hentzau, and you, the King of 
Ruritania.” 

He paused, and then, in a voice that quivered 
with eagerness, added: 

Isn’t that a hand to play? — a throne and yon 
princess! And for me, say a competence and your 
Majesty’s gratitude.” 

‘‘ Surely,” I exclaimed, ‘‘ while you’re above 
ground hell wants its master! ” 

Well, think it over,” he said. ‘‘ And, look yoUj, 
it would take more than a scruple or two to keep 
me from yonder girl,” and his evil eyes flashed 
again at her I loved. 

Get out of my reach!” said I; and yet in a 
moment I began to laugh for the very audacity 
of it. 

Would you turn against your master? I 
asked. 

He swore at Michael for being what the offspring 
of a legal, though morganatic, union should not be 
called, and said to me in an almost confidential and 
apparently friendly tone: 

He gets in my way, you know. He’s a jeal? 


210 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


ous brute! Faith, I nearly stuck a knife into him 
last night ; he came most cursedly mal apropos! ” 
My temper was well under control now; I was 
learning something. 

“ A lady? ” I asked negligently. 

“ Aye, and a beauty,” he nodded. “ Bitt you’ve 
seen her.” 

“ Ah ! was it at a tea party, when some of your 
friends got on the wrong side of the table? ” 

“ What can you expect of fools like Detchard 
and De Gautet? I wish I’d been there.” 

“ And the duke interferes? ” 

“ Well,” said Rupert meditatively, “ that’s hardly 
a fair way of putting it, perhaps. I want to 
interfere.” 

“ And she prefers the duke? ” 

“ Aye, the silly creature ! Ah, well 1 you think 
about my plan ; ” and, with a bow, he pricked his 
horse and trotted after the body of his friend. 

I went back to Flavia and Sapt, pondering on the 
strangeness of the man. Wicked men I have 
known in plenty, but Rupert Hentzau remains 
unique in my experience. And if there be another 


/ TALK IVITH A TEMPTER. * 25 : 

anywhere, let him be caught and hanged out of 
hand. So say I ! 

He’s very handsome, isn’t he? ” said Flavia. 

Well, of course she didn’t know him as I did; yet 
I was put out, for I thought his bold glances would 
have made her angry. But my dear Flavia was a 
woman, and so — she was not put out. On the 
contrary, she thought young Rupert was very 
handsome — as, beyond question, the ruffian was. 

And how sad he looked at his friend’s death ! ” 
said she. 

He’ll have better reason to be sad at his own,” 
observed Sapt, with a grim smile. 

As for me, I grew sulky; unreasonable it was, 
perhaps, for what better business had I to look at 
her with love than had even Rupert’s lustful eyes? 
And sulky I remained till, as evening fell and we 
rode up to Tarlenheim, Sapt having fallen behind 
in case anyone should be following us, Flavia, rid- 
ing close beside me, said softly, with a little half- 
ashamed laugh: 

‘‘ Unless you smile, Rudolf, I cry. Why are you 
angry? ” 


SI2 


THE PRfSONER OF ZENDA. 


“ It was something that fellow said to me,” said 
I; but I was smiling as we reached the doors and 
dismounted. 

There a servant handed me a note; it was un- 
addressed. 

“ Is it for me? ” I asked. 

“ Yes, sire; a boy brought it.” 

I tore it open : 

Johann carries this for me, I warned you once. In the name 
of God, and if you are a man, rescue me from this den of mur= 
derers ! 

A. DE M. 

I handed it to Sapt; but all that the tough old 
soul said in reply to this piteous appeal was: 

Whose fault brought her there? ’’ 

Nevertheless, not being faultless myself, I took 
leave to pity Antoinette de MaubaUo 


CHAPTER XVI. 


A DESPERATE PLAN. 

As I had ridden publicly in Zenda, and had talked 
there with Rupert Hentzau, of course all pretense 
of illness was at an end. I marked the effect, on 
the garrison of Zenda: they ceased to be seen 
abroad; and any of my men who went near the 
castle reported that the utmost vigilance prevailed 
there. Touched as I was by Mme. de Maubatfs 
appeal, I seemed as powerless to befriend her as I 
had proved to help the king. Michael bade me de- 
fiance; and — although he too had been seen outside 
the walls — with more disregard for appearances 
than he had hitherto shown, he did not take the 
trouble to send any excuse for his failure to wait on 
the king. Time ran on in inactivity, when every 
moment was pressing; for not only was I faced with 
the new danger which the stir about my own dis- 
appearance brought on me, but great murmurs had 


2^14 THE PRISONER OF ZEND A, 

arisen in Strelsau at my continued absence from the 
city. They had been greater but for the knowl- 
edge that Flavia was with me; and for this reason 
I suf¥ered her to stay, though I hated to have her 
where danger was, and though every day of our 
present sweet intercourse strained my endurance 
almost to breaking. As a final blow nothing 
would content my advisers, Strakencz and the 
chancellor (who came out from Strelsau to make 
an urgent representation to me), save that I should 
appoint a day for the public solemnization of my 
betrothal, a ceremony which in Ruritania is well- 
nigh as binding and great a thing as marriage itself. 
And this — with Flavia sitting by me — I was forced 
to do, setting a date a fortnight ahead, and appoint- 
ing the cathedral in Strelsau as the place. And 
this formal act, being published far and wide, caused 
great joy throughout the kingdom, and was the 
talk of all tongues; so that I reckoned there were 
but two men who chafed at it — I mean Black 
Michael and myself; and but one who did not know 
of it — that one the man whose name I bore, the 
King of Ruritania. 


A DESPERATE PLAN. 


In truth, I heard something of the way the news 
was received in the castle; for, after an interval of 
three days, the man Johann, greedy for more money, 
though fearful for his life, again found means to 
visit us. He had been waiting on the duke wheo 
the tidings came. Black Michaers face had grown 
blacker still, and he had sworn savagely; nor was 
he better pleased when young Rupert took oath 
that I meant to do as I said, and turning to Mme. 
de Mauban, wished her joy on a rival gonCo 
Michael’s hand stole toward his sword (said 
Johann), but not a bit did Rupert cari; for he rah 
lied the duke on my having made a better king than 
had reigned for years past in Ruritania. And,” 
said he, with a meaning bow tO' his exasperated 
master, the devil sends the princess a finer man 
than Heaven had marked out for her; by my soul, 
he does!” Then Michael harshly bade him hold 
his tongue and leave them; but Rupert must needs 
first kiss madame’s hand, which he did as though he 
loved her, while Michael glared at him. 

This was the lighter side of the fellow’s news; 
but more serious came behind, and it was plain thatp 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


if time pressed at Tarlenheim, it pressed none the 
less fiercely at Zenda. For the king was very sick; 
Johann had seen him, and he was wasted and hardly 
able to move. ‘‘ There could be no thought of 
taking another for him now.’’ So alarmed were 
they that they had sent for a physician from Strel- 
sau; and the physician, having been introduced 
into the king’s cell, had come forth pale and trem- 
bling, and urgently prayed the duke to let him go 
back and meddle no more in the affair; but the 
duke wouldmot, and held him there a prisoner, tell- 
ing him his life was safe if the king lived while the 
duke desired and died when the duke desired~not 
otherwise. And, persuaded by the physician, they 
had allowed Mine, de Mauban to visit the king and 
give him such attendance as his state needed, and 
as only a woman can give. Yet his life hung in the 
balance; and I was yet strong and whole and free. 
Wherefore great gloom reigned at Zenda ; and save 
when they quarreled, to which they were very 
prone, they hardly spoke. But the deeper the de- 
pression of the rest, young Rupert went about 
Satan’s work with a smile in his eye and a song on 


A DESPERATE PLAN, ss?' 

his lip; and laughed '' fit to burst ’’ (said Johann) 
because the duke always set Detchard to guard the 
king when Mme. de Mauban was in the cell — which 
precaution was, indeed, not unwise in my careful 
brother. Thus Johann told his tale and seized his 
crowns. Yet he besought us to allow him to stay 
with us in Tarlenheim, and not venture his head 
again in the lion’s den; but we had need of him 
there, and although I refused to constrain him, I 
prevailed on him by increased rewards to go back 
and to carry tidings to Mme. de Mauban that I was 
working for her, and that, if she could, she should 
speak one word of comfort to the king. For while 
suspense is bad for the sick, yet despair is worse 
still, and it might be that the king lay dying of 
mere hopelessness, for I could learn of no definite 
disease that afflicted him. 

'' And how do they guard the king now? I 
asked, remembering that two of the Six were deadp 
and Max Holf also. 

Detchard and Eersonin watch by night — 
pert Hentzau and Gautet by day, sir,” he answeredc 
Only two at a time? 


2i8 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


“Aye, sir; but the others rest in a room just 
above, and ai e within sound of a cry or a whistle.” 

“ A room just above? I didn’t know that. Is 
there any communication between it and the room 
where they watch? ” 

“ No, sir. You must go down a few stairs and 
through the door by the drawbridge, and so to 
where the king is lodged.” 

“ And that door is locked? ” 

“ Only the four lords have keys, sir.” 

I drew near to him. 

“ And have they keys of the grating? ” I asked 
in a low whisper. 

“ I think, sir, only Detchard and Rupert.” 

“ Where does the duke lodge? ” 

“ In the chateau, on the first floor. His apart- 
ments are on the right as you go toward the draw- 
bridge.” 

“ And Mme. de Mauban? ” 

“Just opposite, on the left. But her door is 
locked after she has entered.” 

“ To keep her in? ” 

“ Doubtless, sir.” 


A DESPERATE PLANo 


2x9 


Perhaps for another reason? 

It is possible.” 

And the duke, I suppose, has the key? ” 

“Yes. And the drawbridge is draw^n back at 
night, and of that too the duke holds the key, so 
that it cannot be run across the moat without ap- 
plication to him.” 

“ And where do you sleep? ” 

“ In the entrance hall of the chateau, with five 
servants.” 

“ Armed?” 

“ They have pikes, sir, but no firearms. The 
duke will not trust them with firearms.” 

Then at last I took the matter boldly in my 
hands. I had failed once at Jacob's ladder; I should 
fail again there. I must make the attack from the 
other side. 

“ I have promised you twenty thousand crowns,” 
said I. “ You shall have fifty thousand if you will 
do what I ask of you to-morrow night. But, first, 
do those servants know who your prisoner is? ” 

“ No, sir. They believe him to be some private 
enemy of the duke's.” 


THE PRISONER OP ZENDA. 


“And they would not doubt that I am the 
king? ” 

“ How should they? ” he asked. 

“ Look to this, then. To-morrow, at two in the 
morning exactly, fling open the front door of the 
cMteau. Don’t fail by an instant.” 

“ Shall you be there, sir? ” 

“ Ask no questions. Do what I tell you. Say 
the hall is close, or what you will. That is all I ask 
of you.” 

“ And may I escape by the open door, sir, when 
I have opened it? ” 

“ Yes, as quick as your legs will carry you. Ont 
thing more. Carry this note to madame, — oh, it’s 
in French, you can’t read it, — and charge her, for 
the sake of all our lives, not to fail in what it 
orders.” 

The man was trembling, but I had to trust to 
what he had of courage and to what he had of hon- 
esty. I dared not wait, for I feared that the king 
would die. 

When the fellow was gone I called Sapt and Fritz 


A DESPERATE PLAN. 


22t 


4o me, and unfolded the plan that I had formed. 
Sapt shook his head over it. 

“ Why can’t you wait? ” he asked. 

“ The king may die.” 

“ Michael will be forced to act before that.” 

“Then,” said I, “the king may, live.” 

“Well, and if he does?” 

“ For a fortnight? ” I asked simply. 

And Sapt bit his mustache. 

Suddenly Fritz von Tarlenheim laid his hand on 
my shoulder. 

“ Let us go and make the attempt,” said he. 

“ I mean you to go — don’t be afraid,” said I. 

“ Aye, but do you stay here and take care of the 
princess! ” 

A gleam came into old Sapt’s eye. 

“We should have Michael one way or the other 
then,” he chuckled ; “ whereas if you go and are 
killed with the king what will become of those of 
us who are left? ” 

“ They will serve Queen Flavia,” said I, “ and I 
would to God I could be one of them.” 


?22 THE PRISONER OF ZEN DA. 

A pause followed. Old Sapt broke it by saying 
sadly, yet with unmeant drollery that set Fritz and 
me laughing: 

“ Why didn’t old Rudolf the Third marry your 
— ^great-grandmother, was it? ” 

“ Come,” said I, “ it is the king we are think- 
ing about.” 

“ It is true,” said Fritz. 

“ Moreover,” I went on, “ I have been an im- 
postor for the profit of another, but I will not be 
one for my own ; and if the king is not alive and on 
his throne before the day of betrothal conies I will 
tell the truth, come what may.” 

“ You shall go, lad,” said Sapt. 

Here is the plan I had made: A strong party, un- 
der Sapt’s command, was to steal up to the door of 
the chateau. If discovered prematurely they were 
to kill anyone who found them — with their swords, 
for I wanted no noise of firing. If all went well 
they would be at the door when Johann opened it. 
They were to rush in and secure the servants if their 
mere presence and the use of the king’s name were 
not enough. At the same moment — and on this 


A DESPERATE PLAN. 


22 * 

hinged the plan — a woman’s cry was to ring out 
loud and shrill from Antoinette de Mauban’s cham- 
ber. Again and again she was to cry: “ Help, help! 
Michael, help ! ” and then to utter the name of 
young Rupert Hentzau. Then, as we hoped, 
Michael, in fury, would rush out of his apartments 
opposite, and fall alive into the hands of Sapt. Still 
the cries would go on; my men would let down the 
drawbridge; and it would be strange if Rupert, 
hearing his name thus taken in vain, did not de- 
scend from where he slept and seek to cross. De 
Gautet might or might not come with him: that 
must be left to chance. 

And when Rupert set his foot on the draw- 
bridge? There was my part: for I was minded for 
another swim in the moat; and, lest I should grow 
weary, I had resolved to take with me a small 
wooden ladder, on which I could rest my arms in 
the water — and my feet when I left it. I would 
rear it against the wall just by the bridge; and when 
the bridge was across I would stealthily creep on 
to it — and then if Rupert or De Gautet crossed in 
safety it would be my misfortune, not my fault. 


S24 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


They dead, two men only would remain; and for 
them we must trust to the confusion we had created 
and to a sudden rush. We should have the keys 
of the door that led to the all-important rooms. 
Perhaps they would rush out. If they stood by 
their orders, then the king’s life hung on the swift- 
ness with which we could force the outer door; and 
I thanked God that not Rupert Hentzau watched, 
but Detchard. For though Detchard was a cool 
man, relentless, and no coward, he had neither the 
dash nor the recklessness of Rupert. Moreover, 
he, if any one of them, really loved Black Michael, 
and it might be that he would leave Bersonin to 
guard the king and rush across the bridge to take 
part in the affray on the other side. 

So I planned — desperately. And, that our 
enemy might be the better lulled to security, I gave 
orders that our residence should be brilliantly 
lighted from top to bottom, as though we were 
engaged in revelry; and should so be kept all night, 
with music playing and people moving to and fro. 
Strakencz would be there, and he was to conceal 
our departure, if he could, from Flavia. And if we 


A DESPERATE PLAN 


22 $ 


came not again by the morning he was to march, 
openly and in force, to the castle, and demand the 
person of the king: if Black Michael were not there, 
as I did not think he would be, the marshal would 
take Flavia with him, as swiftly as he could, to 
Strelsau, and there proclaim Black MichaeFs 
treachery and the probable death of the king, and 
rally all that there was honest and true round the 
banner of the princess. And, to say truth, this was 
what I thought most likely to happen. 

For I had great doubts whether either the king 
or Black Michael or I had more than a day to live. 
Well, if Black Michael died, and if I, the play-actor, 
slew Rupert Hentzau with my own hand, and then 
died myself, it might be that Fate would deal as 
lightly with Ruritania as could be hoped, notwith» 
standing that it demanded the life of the king — and 
to her dealing thus with me I was in no temper to 
make objection. 

It was late when we rose from conference, and I 
betook me to the princess^ apartments. She was 
pensive that evening; yet when I left her she flung 
her arms about me and grew, for an instant, bash^ 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


836 

fully radiant as she slipped a ring on my finger. I 
was wearing the king’s ring; but I had also on my 
little finger a plain band of gold engraved with the 
motto of our family, “ Nil Qiice Feci.” This I took 
off and put on her finger and signed her to let me 
go. And she, understanding, stood away and 
watched me with dimmed eyes. 

“ Wear that ring, even though you wear another 
when you are queen,” I said. 

“ Whatever else I wear, this I v/ill wear till I die, 
and after,” said she as she kissed the ring. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


YOUNG RUPERT’S MIDNIGHT DIVERSIONS. 

The night came fine and clear. I had prayed 
for dirty weather, such as had favored my previous 
voyage in the moat, but Fortune was this time 
against me. Still I reckoned that by keeping close 
under the w^all and in the shadow I could escape 
detection from the windows of the chateau that 
looked out on the scene of my efforts. If they 
searched the moat, indeed my scheme must fail; 
but I did not think they would. They had made 
Jacob’s ladder secure against attack. Johann had 
himself helped to fix it closely to the masonry on 
the under side, so that it could not now be moved 
from below any more than from above. An 
assault with explosives or a long battering with 
picks alone could displace it, and the noise involved 
in either of these operations put them out of the 
question. What harm, then, could a man do m 


MU 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA, 


the moat? I trusted that Black Michael, putting 
this query to himself, would answer confidently, 
None while even if Johann meant treachery he 
did not know my scheme, and would doubtless ex- 
pect to see me, at the head of my friends, before 
the front entrance to the chdteau. There, I said to 
Sapt, was the real danger. 

“ And there,” I added, “ you shall be. Doesn’t 
that content you? ” 

But it did not. Dearly would he have liked to 
come with me had I not utterly refused to take 
him. One man might escape notice ; to double the 
party more than doubled the risk: and when he 
ventured to hint once again that my life was too 
valuable, I, knowing the secret thought he clung 
to, sternly bade him be silent, assuring him that 
unless the king lived through the night I would 
not live through it either. 

At twelve o’clock Sapt’s command left the 
chdteau of Tarlenheim and struck off to the right, 
riding by unfrequented roads, and avoiding the 
town of Zenda. If all went well they would be in 
front of Zenda by about a quarter to two. Leav*. 


YOUNG RUPERTS MIDNIGHT DIVERSIONS. 229 


ing their horses half a mile off, they were to steal 
up to the entrance and hold themselves in readi- 
ness for the opening of the door. If the door were 
not opened by two they were to send Fritz von 
Tarlenheim round to the other side of the castle. 
I would meet him there if I were alive, and we 
would consult whether to storm the castle or not. 
If I were not there they were to return with all 
speed to Tarlenheim, rouse the marshal, and march 
in force on Zenda. For if not there I should be 
dead; and I knew that the king would not be alive 
five minutes after I had ceased to breathe. 

I must now leave Sapt and his friends, and re- 
late how I myself proceeded on this eventful 
night. I went out on the good horse which had 
carried me, on the night of the coronation, back 
from the shooting lodge to Strelsau. I carried a 
revolver in the saddle and my sword. I was cov- 
ered with a large cloak, and under this I wore a 
warm, tight-fitting woolen jersey, a pair of knicker^ 
bockers, thick stockings, and light canvas shoeSc 
I had rubbed myself thoroughly with oil, and 1 
(carried a large flask of whisky. The night was 


^30 the prisoner OF ZENDA. 

warm, but I might probably be imm.ersed a long 
while, and it was necessary to take every precaution 
against cold: for cold not only saps a man’s courage 
if he has to die, but impairs his energy if others 
have to die, and, finally, gives him rheumatics, if it 
be God’s will that he lives. Also I tied round my 
body a length of thin but stout cord, and I did not 
forget my ladder. I, starting after Sapt, took a 
shorter route, skirting the town to the left, and 
found myself in the outskirts of the forest at about 
half-past twelve. I tied my horse up in a thick 
clump of trees, leaving the revolver in its pocket in 
the saddle, — it would be no use to me, — and, ladder 
in hand, made my way to the edge of the moat. 
Here I unwound my rope from about my waist, 
bound it securely round the trunk of a tree on the 
bank, and let myself down. The castle clock 
struck a quarter to one as I felt the water under me 
and began to swim round the keep, pushing the 
ladder before me, and hugg'ing the castle wall. 
Thus voyaging, I came to my old friend Jacob’s 
ladder,” and felt the ledge of masonry under me. 
I crouched down in the shadow of the great pipe^ 


YOUNG RUPERTS MIDNIGHT DIVERSIONS. 


tried to stir it, but it was quite immovable,-^ 
and waited. I remember that my predominant 
feeling was neither anxiety for the king nor long- 
ing for Flavia, but an intense desire to smoke; and 
this craving, of course, I could not gratify. 

The drawbridge was still in its place. I saw its 
airy, light framework above me, some ten yards to 
my right, as I crouched with my back against the 
wall of the king's cell. I made out a window two 
yards my side of it and nearly on the same level. 
That, if Johann spoke true, must belong to the 
duke's apartments; and on the other side, in about 
the same relative position, must be Mme. de Mau- 
ban's window. Women are careless, forgetful 
creatures. I prayed that she might not forget that 
she was to be the victim of a brutal attempt at two 
o'clock precisely. I was rather amused at the part 
I had assigned to my young friend Rupert Hent- 
zau; but I owed him a stroke — for, even as I sat, 
my shoulder ached where he had, with an audacity 
that seemed half to hide his treachery, struck at 
me, in sight of all my friends, on the terrace at 
Tarlenheim. 


232 THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 

Suddenly the duke’s window grew bright. The 
shutters were not closed, and the interior became 
partially visible to me as I cautiously raised myself 
till I stood on tiptoe. Thus placed, my range of 
sight embraced a yard or more inside the window, 
while the radius of light did not reach me. The 
window was flung open and someone looked out. 
1 marked Antoinette de Mauban’s graceful figure, 
and though her face was in shadow, the fine outline 
of her head was revealed against the light behind. 
I longed to cry softly Remember! ” but I dared 
not — and happily, for a moment later a man came 
up and stood by her. He tried to put his arm 
round her waist, but with a swift motion she sprang 
away and leaned against the shutter, her profile 
toward me. I made out who the newcomer was: 
it was young Rupert. A low laugh from him made 
me sure, as he leaned forward, stretching out his 
hand toward her. 

''Gently, gently!” I murmured. "You’re too 
soon, my boy! ” 

His head was close to hers. I suppose he whis^ 


YOUNG RUPERTS MIDNIGHT DIVERSIONS. 233 

pered to her, for I saw her point to the moat, and I 
heard her say in slow and distinct tones : 

‘‘ I had rather throw myself out of this window! ’’ 

He came close up to the window and looked out. 

It looks cold,*’ said he. Come, Antoinette, 
are you serious? ” 

She made no answer, so far as I heard; and he, 
smiting his hand petulantly on the window sill, 
went on in the voice of some spoilt child: 

Hang Black Michael! Isn’t the princess 
enough for him? Is he to have everything? 
What the devil do you see in Black Michael? ” 

If I told him what you say ” she began. 

Well, tell him,” said Rupert carelessly; and, 
catching her of? her guard, he sprang forward and 
kissed her, laughing, and crying, There’s some- 
thing to tell him! ” 

If I had kept my revolver with me I should have 
been very sorely tempted. Being spared the temp- 
tation, I merely added this new score to his account. 

Though, faith,” said Rupert, it’s little he 
cares. He’s mad about the princess, you knowo 


234 THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. A 

i 

He talks of nothing but cutting the play-actor’s ■; 
throat.” 

Didn’t he, indeed? 

“ And if I do it for him what do you think he’s ' 

1 

promised me? ” ■ 

The unhappy woman raised her hands above her ' 
head, in prayer or in despair. 

“ But I detest waiting,” said Rupert; and I saw 'i 
that he was about to lay his hand on her again , 
when there was a noise of a door in the room open- i 
ing, and a harsh voice cried: ! 

“ What are you doing here, sir? ” ; 

Rupert turned his back to the v.dndow, bowed ;; 
low, and said in his loud, merry tones: ; 

“ Apologizing for your absence, sir. Could I 
leave the lady alone ? ” 

The newcomer must be Black Michael. I saw | 
him directly, as he advanced toward the window. I 
He caught young Rupert by the arm. ^ 

“ The moat would hold more than the king! ” | 

said he, with a significant gesture. ) 

“ Does your Highness threaten me? ” asked Ru* | 
pert. , I 


YOUNG RUPERTS MIDNIGHT DIVERSIONS. 23S 


A threat is more warning than most men get 
from me” 

''Yet/’ observed Rupert, "Rudolf Rassendyll 
has been much threatened, and yet lives.” 

" Am I in fault because my servants bungle? ” 
asked Michael scornfully. 

" Your Highness has run no risk of bungling! ” 
sneered Rupert. 

It was telling the duke that he shirked danger 
as plain as ever I have heard a man told. Black 
Michael had self-control. I dare say he scowled, — ■ 
it was a great regret to me that I could not see 
their faces better, — but his voice was even and calm 
as he answered: 

"Enough, enough! We mustn’t quarrel, Ru- 
pert. Are Detchard and Bersonin at their 
posts? ” 

" They are, sir.” 

" I need you no more.” 

" Nay, I’m not oppressed with fatigue,” said 
Rupert. 

" Pray, sir, leave us,” said Michael more im- 
patiently. " In ten minutes the drawbridge will 


S36 the prisoner of zenda. 

be drawn back, and I presume you have no wish to 
swim to your bed.” 

. Rupert’s figure disappeared. I heard the door 
open and shut again. Michael and Antoinette de 
Mauban were left together. To my chagrin, the 
duke laid his hand on the window and closed it. * 
He stood talking to Antoinette for a moment or 
two. She shook her head, and he turned impa- 
tiently away. She left the window. The door 
sounded again, and Black Michael closed the 
shutters. 

” De Gautet, De Gautet, man!” sounded from 
the drawbridge. “ Unless you want a bath before 
your bed, come along! ” 

It was Rupert’s voice, coming from the end of 
the drawbridge. A moment later he and De Gau- 
tet stepped out on the bridge. Rupert’s arm was 
through De Gautet’s, and in the middle of the 
bridge he detained his companion and leaned over. 

I dropped beside the shelter of “ Jacob’s ladder.” 

Then Master Rupert had a little sport. He took 
from De Gautet a bottle which he carried, and put 
it to his lips. 


YOUNG RUPERTS MIDNIGHT DIVERSIONS. 237 

Hardly a drop! ’’ he cried discontentedly, and 
flung it in the moat. 

It fell, as I judged from the sound and the circles 
on the water, within a yard of the pipe. And Ru- 
pert, taking out his revolver, began to shoot at it. 
The first two shots missed the bottle, but hit the 
pipe. The third shattered the bottle. I hoped 
that the young ruffian would be content; but he 
emptied the other barrels at the pipe, and one, 
skimming over the pipe, whistled through my hair 
as I crouched on the other side. 

Ware bridge! ’’ a voice cried, to my relief. 

Rupert and De Gautet cried, A moment! ’’ and 
ran across. The bridge was drawn back, and all 
became still. The clock struck a quarter past one. 
I rose and stretched myself and yawned. 

I think some ten minutes had passed when I 
heard a slight noise to my right. I peered over the 
pipe, and saw a dark figure standing in the gateway 
that led to the bridge. It was a man. By the 
careless, graceful poise I guessed it to be Rupert 
again. He held a sword in his hand, and he stood 
motionless for a minute or two. Wild thoughts 


238 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA, 


ran through me. On what mischief was the young 
fiend bent now? Then he laughed low to himself; 
then he turned his face to the wall, took a step in 
my direction, and to my surprise began to climb 
down the wall. In an instant I saw that there must 
be steps in the wall; it was plain. They were cut 
into or affixed to the wall at intervals of about 
eighteen inches. Rupert set his foot on the lower 
one. Then he placed his sword between his teeth, 
turned round, and noiselessly let himself down into 
the water. Had it been a matter of my life only I 
would have swam to meet him. Dearly would I 
have loved to fight it out with him then and there 
— ^with steel, on a fine night and none to come be^ 
tween us. But there was the king! I restrained 
myself, but I could not bridle my swift breath- 
ing, and I watched him with the intensest 
eagerness. 

He swam leisurely and quietly across. There 
were more footsteps up on the other side, and he 
climbed them. When he set foot in the gateway, 
standing on the drawn-back bridge, he felt in his 
pocket and took something out. I heard him un- 


YOUNG RUPERTS MIDNIGHT DIVERSIONS. 239 

lock the door. I could hear no noise of its closing 
behind him. He vanished from my sight. 

Abandoning my ladder, — I saw I did not need it 
now, — I swam to the side of the bridge, and 
climbed halfway up the steps. There I hung, with 
my sword in my hand, listening eagerly. The 
duke’s room was shuttered and dark. There was a 
light in the window on the opposite side of the 
bridge. Not a sound broke the silence, till half- 
past one chimed from the great clock in the towev 
of the chateau. 

There were other plots than mine afoot in the 
castle that night. 


CHAPTER XVIIL 


THE FORCING OF THE TRAP. 

The position wherein I stood does not appear 
very favorable to thought ; yet for the next moment 
or two I thought profoundly. I had, I told myself^ 
scored one point. Be Rupert Hentzau’s errand 
what it might, and the villainy he was engaged on 
what it would, I had scored one point. He was on 
the other side of the moat from the king, and it 
would be by no fault of mine if ever he set foot on 
the same side again. I had three left to deal with: 
two on guard and De Gautet in his bed. Ah, if I 
had the keys ! I would have risked everything and 
attacked Detchard and Bersonin before their 
friends could join them. But I was powerless. I 
must wait till the coming of my friends enticed 
someone to cross the bridge — someone with the 
keys. And I waited, as it seemed, for half an hour^ 


THE FORCING OF THE TRAP. 

really for about five minutes, before the next act 
in the rapid drama began. 

All was still on the other side. The duke’s room 
remained inscrutable behind its shutters. The 
light burned steadily in Mme.de Mauban’s window. 
Then I heard the faintest, faintest sound; it came 
from behind the door which led to the drawbridge 
on the other side of the moat. It but just reached 
my ear, yet I could not be mistaken as to what it 
was. It was made by a key being turned very 
carefully and slowly. Who was turning it? And 
of what room was it the key? There leaped before 
my eyes the picture of young Rupert, with the key 
in one hand, his sword in the other, and an evil 
smile on his face. But I did not know what door 
it was, nor in which of his favorite pursuits young 
Rupert was spending the hours of that night. 

I was soon to be enlightened, for the next mo- 
ment — before my friends could be near the chateau 
door — before Johann, the keeper, would have 
thought to nerve himself for his task — there was a 
sudden crash from the room with the lighted wim 
dowo It sounded as though someone had flung 


242 THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 

down a lamp, and the window v/ent dark and black. 
At the same instant a cry rang out, shrill in the 
night: ‘‘ Help, help! Michael, help! and was fol- 
lowed by a shriek of utter terror. 

I was tingling in every nerve., I stood on the 
topmost step, clinging to the threshold of the gate 
with my right hand and holding my sword in my 
left. Suddenly I perceived that the gateway was 
broader than the bridge; there was a dark corner 
on the opposite side where a man could stand. I 
darted across and stood there. Thus placed, I 
commanded the path, and no man could pass be- 
tween the chateau and the old castle till he had 
tried conclusions with me. 

There was another shriek. Then a door was 
flung open and clanged against the wall, and I 
heard the handle of a door savagely twisted. 

Open the door! In God's name, what's the 
matter? " cried a voice — the voice of Black Michael 
himself. 

He was answered by the very words I had writ 
ten in my letter: 


^^Help, Michael— Hentzau!^^ 


THE FORCING OF THE TRAP, 


^43 


A fierce oath rang out from the duke, and with 
a loud thud he threw himself against the door. At 
the same moment I heard a window above my head 
open, and a voice cried: Whaf s the matter?’^ 
and I heard a man’s hasty footsteps. I grasped 
my sword. If De Gautet came my way the Six 
would be less by one more. 

Then I heard the clash of crossed swords and a 
tramp of feet, and — I cannot tell the thing so 
quickly as it happened, for all seemed to come at 
once. There was an angry cry from madame’s 
room, the cry of a wounded man; the window was 
flung open; young Rupert stood there sword in 
hand. He turned his back, and I saw his body go 
forward to the lunge. 

Ah, Johann, there’s one for you! Come on, 
Michael! ” 

Johann was there, then — come to the rescue of 
the duke! How would he open the door for me? 
For I feared that Rupert had slain him. 

Help! ” cried the duke’s voice, faint and husky. 

I heard a stir on the stairs above me; and I heard 
a stir down to my right, in the direction of the 


244 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


king’s cell. But before anything happened on my 
side of the moat I saw five or six men round young 
Rupert in the embrasure of madame’s windowo 
Three or four times he lunged with incomparable 
dash and dexterity. For an instant they fell back, 
leaving a ring round him. He leaped on the para- 
pet of the window, laughing as he leaped, and wav- 
ing his sword in his hand. He was drunk with 
blood, and he laughed again wildly as he flung him- 
self headlong- into the moat. 

What became of him then? I did not see: for 
as he leaped, De Gautet’s lean face looked out 
through the door by me, and without a second’s 
hesitation I struck at him with all the strength God 
had given me, and he fell dead in the doorway with- 
out a word or a groan. I dropped on my knees by 
him. Where were the keys? I found myself mut- 
tering: The keys, man, the keys! ” as though he 
had been yet alive and could listen; and when I 
could not find them I — God forgive me !-*-! believe 
I struck a dead man’s face. 

At last I had them. There were but three. 
Seizing the largest, I felt the lock of the door that 


THE FORCING OF THE TRAF, 24S 

led to the cell. I fitted in the key. It was right! 
The lock turned. I drew the door close behind me 
and locked it as noiselessly as I could, putting the 
key in my pocket. 

I found myself at the top of a flight of steep 
stone stairs. An oil lamp burned dimly in the 
bracket. I took it down and held it in my hand; 
and I stood and listened. 

What in the devil can it be? ” I heard a voice 

say. 

It came from behind a door that faced me at the 
bottom of the stairs. 

And another answered: 

Shall we kill him? 

I strained to hear the answer, and could have 
sobbed with relief when Detchard's voice came, 
grating and cold: 

'' Wait a bit. There'll be trouble if we strike 
too soon.'' 

There was a moment's silence. Then I heard 
the bolt of the door cautiously drawn back. In- 
stantly I put out the light I held, replacing thf 
lamp in the bracket. 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA 


‘*46 

It's dark — the lamp's out. Have you a light?" 
said the other voice — Bersonin's. 

No doubt they had a light, but they should nc.i’ 
use it. It was come to the crisis now, and I rush' ,d 
down the steps and flung myself against the doar, 
Bersonin had unbolted it and it gave way before 
me. The Belgian stood there, sword in hand, and 
Detchard was sitting on a couch at the side of the 
room. In astonishment at seeing me, Bersonin 
recoiled; Detchard jumped to his sword. I rushed 
madly at the Belgian: he gave way before me, and 
I drove him up against the wall He was no 
swordsman, though he fought bravely, and in a 
moment he lay on the floor before me. I turned — - 
Detchard was not there. Faithful to his orderSj 
he had not risked a fight with me, but had rushed 
Straight to the door of the king's room, opened it, 
and slammed it behind him. Even now he was at 
his work inside. 

And surely he would have killed the king, and 
perhaps me also, had it not been for one devoted 
man who gave his life for the king. For when I 
forced the door the sight I saw was this: Tte 


THE FORCim OF THE TRAP. 


king stood in the corner of the room: broken by 
his sickness, he could do nothing; his fettered 
hands moved uselessly up and down, and he wag 
laughing horribly in half-mad delirium. Detchard 
and the doctor were together in the middle of tha 
room; and the doctor had flung himself on the 
murderer, pinning his hands to his sides for an in- 
stant. Then Detchard wrenched himself free from 
the feeble grip, and as I entered drove his sword 
through the hapless man. 

Then he turned on me, crying: 

^‘At last!’^ 

We were sword to sword. By blessed chance 
neither he nor Bersonin had been wearing their 
revolvers. I found them afterward, ready loaded, 
on the mantelpiece of the outer room; it was hard 
by the door, ready to their hands, but my sudden 
rush in had cut off access to them. Yes, we were 
man to man: and we began to fight, silently, 
sternly, and hard. Yet I remember little of it, save 
that the man was my match with the sword — nay, 
and more, for he knew more tricks than I ; and that 
he forced me 1)ack against the bars that guarded 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


R48 

the entrance to “Jacob’s ladder.” And I saw a 
smile on his face, and he wounded me in the left 
arm. 

No glory do I take for that contest. I believe 
that the man would have mastered me and slain 
me, and then done his butcher’s work, for he was 
the most skillful swordsman I have ever met; but 
even as he pressed me hard the half-mad, wasted, 
wan creature in the corner leaped high in lunatic 
mirth, shrieking: 

“ It’s Cousin Rudolf! Cousin Rudolf! I’ll 
help you. Cousin Rudolf! ” and catching up a chair 
in his hands (he could but just lift it from the 
ground and hold it uselessly before him), he came 
toward us. Hope came to me. 

“Come on!” I cried. “Come on! Drive it 
against his legs.” 

Detchard replied with a savage thrust. He all 
but had me. 

“Come on! Come on, man! ” I cried. “Come 
and share the fun! ” 

And the king laughed gleefully, and came on, 
pushing his chair before him. 


THE FORCING OF THE TRAP. 249 

With an oath Detchard skipped back, and be- 
fore I knew what he was doing had turned his 
sword against the king. He made one fierce cut 
at the king, and the king, with a piteous cry, 
dropped where he stood. The stout ruffian turned 
to face me again. But his own hand had prepared 
his destruction; for in turning he trod in the pool 
of blood that flowed from the dead physician. He 
slipped; he fell. Like a dart I was upon him. I 
caught him by the throat, and before he could re- 
cover himself I drove my blade through his neck, 
and with a stifled curse he fell across the body of 
his victim. 

Was the king dead? It was my first thoughto 
I rushed to where he lay. Aye, it seemed as if he 
were dead, for he had a great gash across the fore- 
head, and he lay still in a huddled mass on the floor. 
I dropped on my knees beside him, and leaned my 
ear down to hear if he breathed. But before I 
could, there was a loud rattle from the outside. I 
knew the sound : the drawbridge was being pushed 
out. A moment later it rang home against tha 
wall on my side of the moat, I should be caughtt 


250 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA 


in a trap and the king with me, if he yet lived. He 
must take his chance, to live or to die. I took my 
sword, and passed into the outer room. Who 
were pushing the drawbridge out — my men? If 
so, all was well. My eye fell on the revolvers, and 
I seized one; and paused to listen in the doorway 
of the outer room. To listen, say I? Yes, and to 
get my breath : and I tore my shirt and twisted a 
strip of it round my bleeding arm; and stood lisLen- 
ing again. I would have given the world to hear 
Sapt's voice. For I was faint, spent, and weary. 
And that wildcat Rupert Hentzau was yet at large 
in the castle. Yet, because I could better defend 
the narrow door at the top of the stairs than the 
wider entrance to the room, I dragged myself up 
the steps, and stood behind it, listening. 

What was the sound? Again a strange one for 
the place and the time. An easy, scornful, merry 
laugh — the laugh of young Rupert Hentzau! I 
could scarcely believe that a sane man would laugh. 
Yet the laugh told me that my men had not come; 
for they must have shot Rupert ere now if they had 
come. And the clock struck half-past two I My 


THE FORCING OF THE TRAP. 25 

God! The door had not been opened! They had 
gone to the bank! They had not found me! 
They had gone by now back to Tarlenheim, with 
the news of the king’s death — and mine. Well, it 
would be true before they got there. Was not 
Rupert laughing in triumph? 

For a moment I sank, unnerved, against the 
door. Then I started up alert again, for Rupert 
cried scornfully: 

“ Well, the bridge is there! Come over it! And 
in God’s name, let’s see Black Michael! Keep 
back, you curs! Michael, come and fight for her! ” 

If it were a three-cornered fight I might yet bear 
my part. I turned the key in the door and looked 
out. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


FACE TO FACE IN THE FOREST. 

For a moment I could see nothing, for the glare 
of lanterns and torches caught me full in the eyes 
from the other side of the bridge. But soon the 
scene grew clear; and it was a strange scene. The 
bridge was in its place. At the far end of it stood 
a group of the duke’s servants; two or three car- 
ried the lights which had dazzled me, three or four 
held pikes in rest. They were huddled together; 
their weapons protruded before them; their faces 
were pale and agitated. To put it plainly, they 
looked in as arrant a fright as I have seen men look, 
and they gazed apprehensively at a man who stood 
in the middle of the bridge, sword in hand. Rupert 
Hentzau was in his trousers and shirt; the white 
linen was stained with blood; but his easy, buoyant 
pose told me that he was himself either not touched 
at all or merely scratched. There he stood, hold- 


FACE TO FACE IN THE FOREST. 253 

ing the bridge against them, and daring them to 
come on; or, rather, bidding them and Black 
Michael to him; and they, having no firearms, 
cowered before the desperate man and dared not 
attack him. They whispered to one another: and 
in the backmost rank I saw my friend Johann, lean- 
ing against the portal of the door and stanching 
with a handkerchief the blood which flowed from a 
wound in his cheek. 

By marvelous chance I was master. The cravens 
would oppose me no more than they dared attack 
Rupert. I had but to raise my revolver, and I 
sent him to his account with his sins on his head. 
He did not so much as know that I was there. I 
did nothing — why, I hardly know to this day. I 
had killed one man stealthily that night, and an- 
other by luck rather than skill — perhaps it was 
that. Again, villain as the man was, I did not rel- 
ish being one of a crowd against him — perhaps it 
was that. But stronger than either of these re- 
straining feelings came a curiosity and a fascination 
which held me spellbound, watching for the out- 
come of the scene- 


254 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


Michael, you dog! Michael! If you can 
stand, come on! ’’ cried Rupert; and he advanced a 
step, the group shrinking back a little before him. 
'' Michael, you bastard! come on! 

The answer to his taunts came in the wild cry of 
a woman: 

He’s dead! My God, he’s dead! ” 

‘"Dead!” shouted Rupert. ‘‘I struck better 
than I knew! ” and he laughed triumphantly. 
Then he went on: Down with your weapons 
there! I’m your master now! Down with them, 
Isay!” 

I believe they would have obeyed, but as he 
spoke came new things. First, there arose a dis- 
tant sound, as of shouts and knockings from the 
other side of the chateau. My heart leaped. It 
must be my men, come by a happy disobedience to 
seek me. The noise continued, but none of the 
rest seemed to heed it. Their attention was 
chained by what now happened before their eyes. 
The group of servants parted and a woman stag- 
gered on to the bridge. Antoinette de Mauban 
was in a loose white robe, her dark hair streamed 


F^CE TO FACE IN THE FOREST 


255 


i)ver her shoulders, her face was ghastly pale, and 
her eyes gleamed wildly in the light of the torches. 
In her shaking hand she held a revolver, and as she 
tottered forward she fired it at Rupert Hentzau. 
The ball missed him and struck the woodwork over 
my head. 

'' Faith, madame,'’ laughed Rupert, had your 
eyes been no more deadly than your shooting I had 
not been in this scrape — nor Black Michael in hell 
— to-night!’’ 

She took no notice of his words. With a won- 
derful effort she calmed herself till she stood still 
and rigid. Then, very slowly and deliberately, she 
began to raise her arm again, taking most careful 
aim. 

He would be mad to risk it. He must rush on 
her, chancing the bullet, or retreat toward me. I 
covered him with my weapon. 

He did neither. Before she had got her aim he 
bowed in his most graceful fashion, cried, I can’t 
kill where I’ve kissed,” and before she or I could 
stop him laid his hand on the parapet of the bridge, 
and lightly leaped into the moat. 


WB PkISONBR OF ZENDA. 


356 

At the very moment I heard a rush of feet, and a 
voice I knew — Sapt’s — cry: '' God! it’s the duke- 
dead ! ” Then I knew that the king needed me no 
more, and, throwing down my revolver, I sprang 
out on the bridge. There was a cry of wild won- 
der, ^^The king!” and then I, like Rupert Kent- 
zau, sword in hand, vaulted over the parapet, intent 
on finishing my quarrel with him where I saw his 
curly head fifteen yards off in the water of the moat. 

He swam swiftly and easily. I was weary and 
half crippled with my wounded arm. I^could not 
gain on him. For a time I made no sound, but 
as we rounded the corner of the old keep I cried: 

Stop, Rupert, stop ! ” 

I saw him look over his shoulder, but he swam 
on. He was under the bank now, searching, as I 
guessed, for a spot that he could climb. I knew 
there to be none — but there was my rope, which 
would still be hanging where I had left it. He 
would come to where it was before I could. Per- 
haps he would miss it — perhaps he would find it; 
and if he drew it up after him he would get a good 
start of me. I put forth all my remaining strength 


fJCE TO FACE IN THE FOREST 257 

and pressed on. At last I began to gain on him; 
for he, occupied with his search, unconsciously 
slackened his pace. 

Ah, he had found it! A low shout of triumph 
came from him. He laid hold of it and began to 
haul himself up. I was near enough to he^r him 
mutter: How the devil comes this here? I was 
at the rope, and he, hanging in midair, saw me; but 
I could not reach him. 

Hullo! who’s here? ” he cried in startled toneSo 

For a moment I believe he took me for the king 
— I dare say I was pale enough to lend color to the 
thought; but an instant later he cried: 

Why, it’s the play-actor! How came you here, 
man? ” 

And so saying he gained the bank. 

I laid hold of the rope, but I paused. He stood 
on the bank, sword in hand, and he could cut my 
head open or spit me through the heart as I came 
up. I let go the rope. 

Never mind,” said I; but as I’m here I think 
Fll stay.” 

He smiled down on mCo 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA 


258 

These women are the deuce ” he began^ 

when suddenly the great bell of the castle began to 
ring furiously, and a loud shout reached us from the 
moat. 

Rupert smiled again and waved his hand to me. 

'T should like a turn with you, but it’s a little too 
hot! ” said he, and he disappeared from above me. 

In an instant, without thinking of danger, I laid 
my hand to the rope. I was up. I saw him thirty 
yards off, running like a deer toward the shelter of 
the forest. For once Rupert Hentzau had chosen 
discretion for his part. I laid my feet to the 
ground and rushed after him, calling to him to 
stand. He would not. Unwounded and vigor- 
ous, he gained on me at every step; but, forgetting 
everything in the world except him and my thirst 
for his blood, I pressed on, and soon the deep 
shades of the forest of Zenda engulfed us both, pur« 
^ued and pursuer. 

It was three o’clock now, and day was dawningo 
I was on a long, straight grass avenue, and a hum 
dred yards ahead ran young Rupert, his curls wav« 
mg in the fresh breeze. I was weary and panting; 


TO FACE IN THE FOREST 259 

lie looked over his shoulder and waved his hand 
again to me. He was mocking me, for he saw he 
had the pace of me. I was forced to pause for 
breath. A moment later Rupert turned sharply to 
the right and was lost from my sight. 

I thought all was over, and in deep vexation sank 
on the ground. But I was up again directly, for a 
scream rang through the forest— a woman’s 
scream. Putting forth the last of my strength, I 
ran on to the place where he had turned out of 
sight, and turning also, I saw him again. But alas! 
I could not touch him. Pie was in the act of lift- 
ing a girl down from her horse; doubtless it was 
her scream that I heard. She looked like a small 
farmer’s or a peasant’s daughter, and she carried 
a basket on her arm. Probably she was on her way 
to the early market at Zenda. Pier horse was a 
stout, well-shaped animal. Master Rupert lifted 
her down amid her shrieks — the sight of him fright- 
ened her; but he treated her gently, laughed, kissed 
her, and gave her money. Then he jumped on the 
horse, sitting sideways like a woman; and then hi 
waited for me. I, on my part, waited for him^ 


36o 


THE PRISONER OF ZEND.4, 


Presently he rode toward me, keeping his dig 
tance however. He lifted up his hand, saying: 

“ What did you in the castle? ” 

“ I killed three of your friends,” said I. 

“ What! You got to the cells? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ And the king? ” • 

“ He was hurt by Detchard before I killed Det- 
chard, but I pray that he lives.” 

“ You fool! ” said Rupert pleasantly. 

“ One thing more I did.” 

“ And what’s that?” 

“ I spared your life. I was behind you on the 
bridge, with a revolver in my hand.” 

“ No? Faith, I was between two fires! ” 

“ Get off your horse,” I cried, “ and fight like a 
man.” 

“ Before a lady! ” said he, pointing to the girl. 
“ Fie, your Majesty! ” 

Then in my rage, hardly knowing what I did, 
I rushed at him. For a moment he seemed to 
waver. Then he reined his horse in and stood 
waiting for me. On I went in my folly. I seized 


■; FACE TO FACE IN THE FOREST. 

Wf the bridle and I struck at him. He parried and! 
n. thrust at me. I fell back a pace and rushed in at 
¥ . him again ; and this time I reached his face and laid 
I his cheek open, and darted back before he could 
i ;; strike me. He seemed almost mazed at the fierce" 
ness of my attack; otherwise I think he must have 
I '' killed me. I sank on my knee, panting, expecting 
him to ride at me. And so he would have done, 
^ and then and there, I doubt not, one or both of 
I us would have died; but at the moment there came 
i I a shout from behind us, and, looking round, I saw 
i ^ just at the turn of the avenue a man on a horsCo 
t He was riding hard, and he carried a revolver in 
I; his hand. It was Fritz von Tarlenheim, my faith" 
ful friend. Rupert saw him, and knew that the 
^ game was up. He checked his rush at me and 
flung his leg over the saddle, but yet for just a mo- 
i| ment he waited. Leaning forward, he tossed his 
f W hair off his forehead and smiled, and said : 
revoir, Rudolf Rassendyll! 

t ! Then, with his cheek streaming blood, but his 
j;! Hps laughing and his body swaying with ease and 

grace, he bowed to me; and he bowed to the farm< 


262 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


girl, who had drawn near in trembling fascination j 
and he waved his hand to Fritz, who was just within 
range and let fly a shot at him. The ball came 
nigh doing its work, for it struck the sword he held, 
and he dropped the sword with an oath, wringing 
his fingers, and clapped his heels hard in his 
horse’s belly, and rode away at a gallop. 

And I watched him go down the long avenue, 
riding as though he rode for his pleasure and sing- 
ing as he went, for all there was that gash in his 
cheek. 

Once again he turned to wave his hand, and then 
the gloom of the thickets swallowed him and he 
was lost from our sight. Thus he vanished — reck- 
less and wary, graceful and graceless, handsome, 
debonair, vile, and unconquered. And I flung my 
sword passionately on the ground and cried to 
Fritz to ride after him. But Fritz stopped his 
horse, and leaped down and ran to me, and knelt, 
putting his arm about m.e. And indeed it was 
time, for the wound that Detchard had given me 
was broken forth afresh, and my blood was staining 
ihe groundo 


FACE TO FACE IN THE FOREST. 263 

‘‘Then give me the horse!’’ I cried, staggering 
to my feet and throwing his arms off me. And the 
strength of my rage carried me so far as where the 
horse stood, and then I fell prone beside it. And 
Fritz knelt by me again. 

“ Fritz!” I said. 

“ Aye, friend — dear friend ! ” said he, tender as a 
woman. 

“ Is the king alive ? ” 

He took his handkerchief and wiped my lips, and 
bent and kissed me on the forehead. 

“ Thanks to the most gallant gentleman that 
lives,” said he softly, “ the king is alive ! ” 

The little farm-girl stood by us, weeping for 
fright and wide-eyed wonder; for she had seen 
me at Zenda; and was not I, pallid, dripping, 
foul, and bloody as I was — yet was not I the 
king ? 

And when I heard that the king was alive I 
strove to cry “ Hurrah ! ” But I could not speak, 
and I laid my head back in Fritz’s arms and closed 
my eyes, and I groaned; and then, lest Fritz should 
do me wrong in his thoughts, I opened my eyes and 


264 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


tried to say “ Hurrah ! ” again. But I could not 
And being very tired, and now very cold, I huddled 
myself close up to Fritz, to get the warmth of him, 
and shut my eyes again and went to sleep. 


CHAPTER XX. 


THE PRISONER AND THE KINGo 

In order to a full understanding of what had oc- 
curred in the castle of Zenda it is necessary to sup= 
plement my account of what I myself saw and did 
on that night by relating briefly what I afterward 
learned from Fritz and from Mme. de Maubano 
The story told by the latter explained clearly how 
it happened that the cry which I had arranged as ^ 
stratagem and a sham had come, in dreadful reality^^ 
before its time, and had thus, as it seemed at the 
moment, ruined our hopes, while in the end it 
favored themo The unhappy woman, fired, I be= 
lieve, by a genuine attachment to the Duke oS 
Strelsau, no less than by the dazzling prospects 
which a dominion over him opened before her eyes, 
had followed him at his request from Paris to Ruri- 
taniao He was a man of strong passions, but of 
stronger will, and his cool head ruled botho H© 


§66 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


was content to take all and give nothing. When 
she arrived she was not long in finding that she had 
a rival in the Princess Flavia; rendered desperate, 
she stood at nothing which might give or keep her 
power over the duke. As I say, he took and gave' 
not. Simultaneously Antoinette found herself en« 
tangled in his audacious schemes. Unwilling to 
abandon him, bound to him by the chains of shame 
and hope, she yet would not be a decoy, nor at his 
bidding lure me to death. Hence the letters of 
warning she had written. Whether the lines she 
sent to Flavia were inspired by good or bad feeling, 
by jealousy or by pity, I do not know; but here also 
she served us well. When the duke went to Zenda 
she accompanied him; and here for the first time 
she learned the full measure of his cruelty, and 
was touched with compassion for the unfortunate 
king. From this time she was with us; yet, from 
what she told me, I knew that she still (as 
women will) loved Michael, and trusted to gain his 
life, if not his pardon, from the king as the reward 
for her assistance. His triumph she did not desire, 
for she loathed his crime, and loathed yet mor© 


THE PRISONER AND THE KING, 267 

fiercely what would be the prize of it — his marriage 
with his cousin, Princess Flavia. 

At Zenda new forces came into play — the lust 
and daring of young Rupert. He was caught by 
her beauty, perhaps; perhaps it was enough for 
him that she belonged to another man, and that she 
hated him. For many days there had been quar- 
rels and ill will between him and the duke, and the 
scene which I had witnessed in the duke’s room was 
but one of many. Rupert’s proposals to me, of 
which she had of course been ignorant, in no way 
surprised her when I related them; she had herself 
warned Michael against Rupert, even when she was 
calling on me to deliver her from both of them. 
On this night, then, Rupert had determined to have 
his will. When she had gone to her room he, hav- 
ing furnished himself with a key to it, had made his 
entrance. Fler cries had brought the duke, and 
there in the dark room while she screamed, the 
men had fought; and Rupert, having wounded his 
master with a mortal blow, had, on the servants 
rushing in, escaped through the window as I have 
described. The duke’s blood, spurting out» had 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


ri68 

Stained his opponent’s shirt; but Rupert, not know^* 
ing that he had dealt Michael his death, was eagef 
to finish the encounter. How he meant to deal 
with the other three of the band I know not. I 
dare say he did not think, for the killing of Michael 
was not premeditated. Antoinette, left alone with 
the duke, had tried to stanch his wound, and thus 
was she busied till he died; and then, hearing Ru- 
pert’s taunts, she had come forth to avenge him. 
Me she had not seen, nor did she till I darted out 
of my ambush and leaped after Rupert into the 
moat. 

The same moment found my friends on the 
scene. They had reached the chateau in due time, 
and waited ready by the door. But Johann, swept 
with the rest to the rescue of the duke, did not open 
it, nay, he took a part against Rupert, putting him- 
self forward more bravely than any in his anxiety 
to avert suspicion; and he had received a wound, 
in the embrasure of the window. Till nearly half- 
past two Sapt waited; then, following my orders, 
he had sent Fritz to search the banks of the moato 
H was not there. Hastening back, Fritz told Sapt| 


THE PRISONER AND THE KING, 269 

and Sapt was for following orders still, and riding 
at full speed back to Tarlenheim; while Fritz would 
imot hear of abandoning me, let me have ordered 
what I would. On this they disputed some few 
minutes; then Sapt, persuaded by Fritz, detached a 
party under Bernenstein to gallop back to Tarlen- 
heim and bring up the marshal, while the rest fell 
to on the great door of the chateau. For nearly 
fifteen minutes it resisted them; then, just as An- 
toinette de Mauban fired at Rupert Hentzau on 
the bridge, they broke in, eight of them in all: and 
the first door they came to was the door of 
Michael’s room; and Michael lay dead across the 
threshold, with a sword thrust through his breast, 
Sapt cried out at his death, as I had heard, and they 
rushed on the servants; but these, in fear, dropped 
their weapons, and Antoinette flung herself, weep- 
ing, at Sapt’s feet. And all she cried was that I 
had been at the end of the bridge and had leaped 
off. What of the prisoner? ” asked Sapt; but she 
shook her head. Then Sapt and Fritz, with the 
gentlemen behind them, crossed the bridge, slowly, 
warily^ and without noise; and Fritz stumbled ovea 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA- 


the body of De Gautet in the way of the doofc 
They felt him and found him dead. 

Then they consulted, listening eagerly for any 
sound from the cells below; but there came none, 
and they were greatly afraid that the king’s guards 
had killed him, and having pushed his body 
through the great pipe, had escaped the same way 
themselves. Yet, because I had been seen here, 
they had still some hope (thus indeed Fritz, in his 
friendship, told me); and going back to Michael’s 
body, pushing aside Antoinette, who prayed by it, 
they found a key to the door which I had locked, 
and opened the door. The staircase was dark, and 
they would not use a torch at first, lest they should 
be the more exposed to fire. But soon Fritz cried: 

The door down there is open ! See, there is 
light ! ” So they went on boldly, and found none 
to oppose them. And when they came to the 
outer room and saw the Belgian, Bersonin, lying 
dead, they thanked God, Sapt saying: Aye, he has 
been here.” Then rushing into the king’s cell, 
they found Detchard lying dead across the dead 
physician, and the king on his back with his chaiif 


THE PRISONER AND THE KING. 

hj Mnio And Fritz cried: He’s dead! ” and Sapt 
drove all out of the room except Fritz, and knelt 
down by the king; and, having learned more of 
wounds and the signs of death than I, he soon knew 
that the king was not dead, nor, if properly at- 
tended, would dieo And they covered his face and 
carried him to Duke Michael’s room, and laid him 
there; and Antoinette rose from praying by the 
body of the duke and went to bathe the king’s head 
and dress his wounds, till a doctor came. And 
Sapt, seeing I had been there, and having heard 
Antoinette’s story, sent Fritz to search the moat 
and then the forest. He dared send no one else. 
And Fritz found my horse, and feared the worst. 
Then, as I have told, he found me, guided by the 
shout with which I had called on Rupert to stop 
and face me. And I think a man has never been 
more glad to find his own brother alive than was 
Fritz to come on me; so that, in love and anxiety 
for me, he thought nothing of a thing so great as 
would have been the death of Rupert HentzaUo 
"Yet, had Fritz killed him, I should have grudged it. 
The enterprise of the king’s rescue being ihm 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA, 

prosperously concluded, it lay on Colonel Sapt te 
secure security as to the king ever having been in 
need of rescue. Antoinette de Mauban and 
Johann, the keeper (who, indeed, was too much 
hurt to be wagging his tongue just now), were 
sworn to reveal nothing; and Fritz went forth to 
find — not the king, but the unnamed friend of the 
king, who had lain in Zenda and flashed for a mo- 
ment before the dazed eyes of Duke Michael’s serv- 
ants on the drawbridge. The metamorphosis had 
happened: and the king, wounded almost to death 
by the attacks of the jailers who guarded his friend, 
had at last overcome them, and rested now, 
wounded, but alive, in Black Michael’s own room 
in the castle. There he had been carried, his face 
covered with a cloak, from the cell; and thence 
orders issued that if his friend were found he 
should be brought directly and privately to the 
king, and that meanwhile messengers should ride 
at full speed to Tarlenheim to tell Marshal Stra- 
kencz to assure the princess of the king’s safety, and 
to come himself with all speed to greet the king. 
The princess was enjoined to remain at Tarlenheim^ 


THE PRISONER AND THE KING. 


273 


md there await her cousin’s coming or his further 
Injunctions. Thus the king would come to his 
own again, having wrought brave deeds, and es- 
caped, almost by a miracle, the treacherous assault 
of his unnatural brother. 

This ingenious arrangement of my long-headed 
old friend prospered in every way, save where it 
encountered a force that often defeats the most 
cunning schemes. I mean nothing else than the 
pleasure of a woman. For let her cousin and sov- 
ereign send what command he chose (or Colonel 
Sapt chose for him), and let Marshal Strakencz in- 
sist as he would, the Princess Flavia was in no way 
minded to rest at Tarlenheim while her lover lay 
wounded at Zenda; and when the marshal, with a 
small suite, rode forth from Tarlenheim on the way 
to Zenda the princess’ carriage followed immedi- 
ately behind, and in this order they passed through 
the town, where the report was already rife that 
the king, going the night before to remonstrate 
with his brother, in all friendliness, for that he held 
one of the king’s friends in confinement in the 
castle, had been most traitorously set upon; that 


«74 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


there had been a desperate conflict; that the duka 
was slain with several of his gentlemen; and that 
the king, wounded as he was, had seized and held 
the castle of Zenda. All of which talk made, as 
may be supposed, a mighty excitement; and the 
wires were set in motion, and the tidings came to 
Strelsau only just after orders had been sent thither 
to parade the troops and overawe the dissatisfied 
quarters of the town with a display of force. 

Thus the Princess Flavia came to Zenda. And 
as she drove up the hill, with the marshal riding 
by the wheel and still imploring her to return in 
obedience to the king’s orders, Fritz von Tarlen- 
heim, with the prisoner of Zenda, came to the edge 
of the forest. I had revived from my swoon, and 
walked, resting on Fritz’s arm; and looking out 
from the cover of the trees, I saw the princess. 
Suddenly understanding from a glance at my com- 
panion’s face that we must not meet her, I sank on 
my knees behind a clump of bushes. But there 
was one whom we had forgotten, but who followed 
^s, and was not disposed to let slip the chance of 
earning a smile and maybe a crown or two; and 


THE PRISONER AND THE KING. 


27S 


while we lay hidden the little farm-girl came by us 
and ran to the princess, courtesying and crying : 

Madame, the king is here — in the bushes. 
May I guide you to him, madame? 

'‘Nonsense, child!” said old Strakencz; "the 
king lies wounded in the castle.” 

" Yes, sir, he's wounded, I know; but he’s there 
— with Count Fritz — and not at the castle,” she 
persisted. 

" Is he in two places, or are there two kings? ” 
asked Flavia, bewildered. " And how should he 
be here? ” 

" He pursued a gentleman, madame, and they 
fought till Count Fritz came; and the other gentle- 
man took my father’s horse from me and rode 
away; but the king is here with Count Fritz. Why, 
madame, is there another man in Ruritania like the 
king?” 

" No, my child,” said Flavia softly (I was told it 
afterward), and she smiled and gave the girl money. 
" I will go and see the gentleman,” and she rose to 
alight from, the carriage. 

But at this moment Sapt came riding from the 


a ?® the prisoner OP ZENDA, 

castle, and, seeing the princess, made the best of a 
bad job, and cried to her that the king was well 
tended and in no danger. 

“ In the castle? ” she asked. 

“ Where else, madame? ” said he, bowing. 

“ But this girl says he is yonder — ^with Count 
Fritz.” 

Sapt turned his eyes on the child with an incredu- 
lous smile. 

“ Every fine gentleman is a king to such,” said 
he. 

“ Why, he’s as like the king as one pea to an- 
other, madame ! ” cried the girl, a little shaken, but 
still obstinate. 

Sapt started round. The old marshal’s face 
asked unspoken questions. Flavia’s glance was no 
less eloquent. Suspicion spreads quick. 

“ I’ll ride myself and see this man,” said Sapt 
hastily. 

“ Nay, I’ll come myself,” said the princess. 

“ Then come alone,” he whispered. 

And she, obedient to the strange hinting in his 
face, prayed the marshal and the rest to wait; and 


THE PRISONER AND THE KING. 


277 


she and Sapt came on foot toward where we lay, 
Sapt waving to the farm-girl to keep at a distance. 
And when I saw them coming I sat in a sad heap 
on the ground, and buried my face in my hands. 
I could not look at her. Fritz knelt by me, laying 
his hand on my shoulder. 

Speak low, whatever you say,’’ I heard Sapt 
whisper as they came up, and the next thing I 
heard was a low cry — half of joy, half of fear — from 
the princess: 

'' It is he! Are you hurt? ” 

And she fell on the ground by me and gently 
pulled my hands away; but I kept my eyes to the 
ground. 

''It is the king!” she said. "Pray, Colonel 
Sapt, tell me where lay the wit of the joke you 
played on me? ” 

We answered none of us; we three were silent 
before her. Regardless of them, she threw her 
arms round my neck and kissed me. Then Sapt 
spoke in a low, hoarse whisper: 

" It is not the king. Don’t kiss him; he’s not the 
king.” 


278 


THE PRISONER Of ZENDA. 


She drew back for a moment; then, with an arm 
still round my neck, she asked in superb indig- 
nation : 

Do I not know my love? Rudolf, my love! '' 

It is not the king,” said old Sapt again ; and a 
sudden sob broke from tender-hearted Fritz. 

It was the sob that told her no comedy was afoot. 

‘‘ He is the king! ” she cried. “ It is the king’s 
face — the king’s ring — my ring! It is my love!” 

‘‘ Your love, madame,” said old Sapt, '' but not 
the king. The king is there in the castle. This 
gentleman ” 

'' Look at me, Rudolf! look at me! ” she cried, 
taking my face between her hands. Why do you 
let them torment me? Tell me what it means! ” 

Then I spoke, gazing into her eyes. 

God forgive me, madame! ” I said. I am not 
the king! ” 

I felt her hands clutch my cheeks. She gazed 
at me as never man’s face was scanned yet. And 
I, silent again, saw wonder born, and doubt grow, 
and terror spring to life as she looked. And very 
gradually the grasp of her hands slackened; she 


THE PRISONER AND THE KING. 


279 


turned to Sapt, to Fritz, and back to me; then sud- 
denly she reeled forward and fell in my arms; and 
with a great cry of pain I gathered her to me and 
kissed her lips. Sapt laid his hand on my arm. I 
looked up in his face. And I laid her softly on the 
ground, and stood up, looking on her, cursing 
Heaven that young Rupert's sword had spared me 
for this sharper pang. 


CHAPTER XXL 


IF LOVE WERE ALL. 

It was night, and I was in the cell wherein the 
king had lain in the castle of Zenda. The great 
pipe that Rupert of Hentzau had nicknamed 
Jacob’s ladder ” was gone, and the lights in the 
room across the moat twinkled in the darkness. 
All was still; the din and clash of strife were gone. 
I had spent the day hidden in the forest from the 
time when Fritz had led me off, leaving Sapt with 
the princess. Under cover of dusk, muffled up, I 
had been brought to the castle and lodged where I 
now lay. Though three men had died there — two 
of them . by my hand — I was not troubled by 
ghosts. I had thrown myself on a pallet by the 
window, and was looking out on the black water; 
Johann, the keeper, still pale from his wound, but 
not much hurt besides, had brought me supper. 
He told me that the king was doing well, that he 


280 


IF LOVE IVERE ALL I 


281 


had seen the princess; that she and he, Sapt and 
Fritz had been long together. Marshal Strakencz 
was gone to Strelsau; Black Michael lay in his 
coffin, and Antoinette de Mauban watched by him. 
Had I not heard from the chapel priests singing 
Mass for him? 

Outside there were strange rumors afloat. 
Some said that the prisoner of Zenda was dead; 
some, that he had vanished yet alive; some, that 
he was a friend who had served the king well in 
some adventure in England; others, that he had 
discovered the duke's plots, and had therefore been 
kidnaped by him. One or two shrewd fellows 
shook their heads and said only that they would 
say nothing, but they had suspicions that more was 
to be known than was known if Colonel Sapt would 
tell all he knew. 

Thus Johann chattered till I sent him away and 
lay there alone, thinking, not of the future, but — 
as a man is wont to do when stirring things have 
happened to him — rehearsing the events of the past 
weeks, and wondering how strangely they had 
fallen out. And above me in the stillness of the 


282 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


night I heard the standards flapping against their 
poles, for Black Michaers banner hung there half- 
mast high, and above it the royal flag of Ruritania, 
floating for one night more over my head. Habit 
grows so quick that only by an efifort did I recol- 
lect that it floated no longer for me. 

Presently Fritz von Tarlenheim came into the 
room. I was standing then by the window; the 
glass was opened, and I was idly fingering the 
cement which clung to the masonry where 
'' Jacob’s ladder ” had been. He told me briefly 
that the king wanted me, and together we crossed 
the drawbridge and entered the room that had 
been Black Michael’s. 

The king was lying there in bed; our doctor 
from Tarlenheim was in attendance on him, and 
whispered to me that my visit must be brief. The 
king held out his hand and shook mine. Fritz and 
the doctor withdrew to the window. 

I took the king’s ring from my finger and placed 
it on his. 

I have tried not to dishonor it, sire,” said I. 

I can’t talk much to you,” he said in a weak 


IF LOVE IVERE ALL 


283 


voice. I have had a great fight with Sapt and 
the marshal — for we have told the marshal every- 
thing. I wanted to take you to Strelsau and keep 
you with me, and tell everyone of what you had 
done; and you would have been my best and 
nearest friend, Cousin Rudolf. But they tell me I 
must not, and that the secret must be kept — if kept 
it can be.’’ 

They are right, sire. Let me go. My work 
here is done.” 

'' Yes, it is done, as no man but you could have 
done it. When they see me again I shall have my 
beard on ; I shall — yes, faith, I shall be wasted with 
sickness. They will not wonder that the king 
looks changed in face. Cousin, I shall try to let 
them find him changed in nothing else. You have 
shown me how to play the king.” 

'' Sire,” said I, '' I can take no praise from you. 
It is by the narrowest grace of God that I was not 
a worse traitor than your brother.” 

He turned inquiring eyes on me; but a sick man 
shrinks from puzzles, and he had no strength to 
question me. His glance fell on Flavia’s ring, 


284 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


which I wore. I thought he would question me 
about it; but after fingering it idly he let his head 
fall on his pillow. 

I don’t know when I shall see you again,” he 
said faintly, almost listlessly. 

'' If I can ever serve you again, sire,” I an- 
swered. 

His eyelids closed. Fritz came with the doctor. 
I kissed the king’s hand, and let Fritz lead me 
away. I have never seen the king since. 

Outside Fritz turned, not to the right, back to- 
ward the drawbridge, but to the left, and, without 
speaking, led me upstairs, through a handsome cor- 
ridor in the chateau. 

Where are we going? ” I asked. 

Looking away from me, Fritz answered: 

She has sent for you. When it is over 
come back to the bridge. I’ll wait for you 
there.” 

'' What does she want? ” said I, breathing 
quickly. 

He shook his head. 

Does she know everything? ” 


IF LOVE JVERE ALL) 


285 


Yes, everything/’ 

He opened a door, and gently pushing me in, 
closed it behind me. I found myself in a drawing 
room, small and richly furnished. At first I 
thought that I was alone, for the light that came 
from a pair of shaded candles on the mantelpiece 
was very dim. But presently I discerned a 
woman’s figure standing by the window. I knew 
it was the princess, and I walked up to xxcr, fell 
on one knee, and carried the hand that hung by 
her side to my lips. She neither moved nor spoke. 
I rose to my feet, and, piercing the gloom with my 
eager eyes, saw her pale face and the gleam of her 
hair, and before I knew I spoke softly: 

Flavia! ” 

She trembled a little, and looked round. Then 
she darted to me, taking hold of me. 

Don’t stand, don’t stand! No, you mustn’t! 
You’re hurt! Sit down — here, here! ” 

She made me sit on a sofa, and put her hand on 
my forehead. 

How hot your head is! ” she said, sinking on 
her knees by me. Then she laid her head against 


286 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


me, and I heard her murmur: ‘‘ My darling, how 
hot your head is! 

Somehow love gives even to a dull man the 
knowledge of his lover’s heart. I had come to 
humble myself and pray pardon for my presump^ 
tion; but what I said now was: 

'' I love you with all my heart and soul! 

For what troubled and shamed her? Not her 
love for me, but the fear that I had counterfeited 
the lover as I had acted the king, and taken her 
kisses with a smothered smile. 

With all my life and heart!” said I, as she 
clung to me. Always, from the first moment I 
saw you in the cathedral ! There has been but one 
woman in the world to me — and there will be no 
other. But God forgive me the wrong I’ve done 
you!” 

They made you do it! ” she said quickly; and 
she added, raising her head and looking in my eyes. 

It might have made no difference if I’d known it. 
It was always you, never the king! ” and she raised 
herself and kissed me. 

I meant to tell you,” said 1. I was going to 








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IP LOVE IVERE ALL! 


287 

on the night of the ball in Strelsau, when Sapt 
interrupted me. After that I couldn’t — I couldn’t 
risk losing you before^ — before — I must! My 
darling, for you I nearly left the king to 
die!” 

I know, I know ! What are we to do now, 
Rudolf? ” 

I put my arm round her and held her up while 
I said: 

‘‘ I am going away to-night.” 

Ah, no, no! ” she cried. '' Not to-night! ” 

I must go to-night, before more people have 
seen me. And how would you have me stay, 
sweetheart, except ” 

‘‘ If I could come with you! ” she whispered very 
low. 

My God!” said I roughly, ^Mon’t talk about 
that! ” and I thrust her a little back from me. 

‘^Why not? I love you. You are as good a 
gentleman as the king! ” 

Then I was false to all that I should have held 
by. For I caught her in my arms and prayed her, 
in words that I will not write, to come with me, 


^88 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


daring all Ruritania to take her from me. And for 
a while she listened, with wondering, dazzled eyes. 
But as her eyes looked on me I grew ashamed, and 
my voice died away in broken murmurs and stam- 
merings, and at last I was silent. 

She drew herself away from me and stood 
against the wall, while I sat on the edge of the sofa, 
trembling in every limb, knowing what I had done 
■ — loathing it, obstinate not to undo it. So we 
rested a long time. 

I am mad! I said sullenly. 

I love your madness, dear,’’ she answered. 

Her face was away from me, but I caught the 
sparkle of a tear on her cheek. I clutched the 
sofa with my hand and held myself there. 

Is love the only thing? ” she asked, in low, 
sweet tones that seemed to bring a calm even to my 
wrung heart. If love were the only thing I could 
follow you — in rags, if need be — to the world’s end; 
for you hold my heart in the hollow of your hand! 
But is love the only thing? ” 

I made her no answer. It gives me shame now 
to think that I would not help her. 


IF LOVE lyERE ALL! 289 

She came near me and laid her hand on my 
shoulder. I put my hand up and held hers. 

I know people write and talk as if it were. 
Perhaps, for some, Fate lets it be. Ah, if I were 
one of them! But if love had been the only thing 
you would have let the king die in his cell.’^ 

I kissed her hand. 

Honor binds a woman too, Rudolf. My 
honor lies in being true to my country and my 
House. I don’t know why God has let me love 
you; but I know that I must stay! ” 

Still I said nothing; and she, pausing a while, 
then went on: 

Your ring will always be on my finger, your 
heart in my heart, the touch of your lips on mine. 
But you must go and I must stay. Perhaps I must 
do what it kills me to think of doing.” 

I knew what she meant, and a shiver ran through 
me. But I could not utterly fail beside her, I 
rose and took her hand. 

Do you what you will or what you must,” I 
said. '' I think God shows his purposes to such as 
you. My part is lighter; for your ring shall be on 


290 THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 

my finger and your heart in mine, and no touch 
save of your lips will ever be on mine. So, may 
God comfort you, my darling! ” 

There struck on our ears the sound of singing. 
The priests in the chapel were singing masses for 
the souls of those who lay dead. They seemed to 
chant a requiem over our buried joy, to pray for- 
giveness for our love that would not die. The 
soft, sweet, pitiful music rose and fell as we stood 
opposite one another, her hands in mine. 

“ My queen and my beauty ! ” said I. 

“ My lover and true knight 1 ” she said. “ Per- 
haps we shall never see one another again. Kiss 
me, my dear, and go! ” 

I kissed her as she bade me; but at the last she 
clung to me, whispering nothing but my name, 
and that over and over again — and again — and 
again ; and then I left her. 

Rapidly I walked down to the bridge. Sapt and 
Fritz were waiting for me. Under their directions 
I changed my dress, and muffling my face, as I had 
done more than once before, I mounted with them 
at the door of the castle, and we three rode through 


SF LOl^E IVERE ALL! 


291 


the night and on to the breaking of day, and found 
ourselves at a little roadside station just over the 
border of Ruritania. The train was not quite due, 
and I walked with them in a meadow by a little 
brook while we waited for it. They promised to 
send me all news; they overwhelmed me with kind- 
ness — even old Sapt was touched to gentleness, 
while Fritz was half unmanned. I listened in a 
kind of dream to all they said. '' Rudolf! Ru- 
dolf! Rudolf! ” still rang in my ears — a burden of 
sorrow and of love. At last they saw that I could 
not heed them, and we walked up and down in 
silence, till Fritz touched me on the arm, and I 
saw, a mile or more away, the blue smoke of the 
train. Then I held out a hand to each of them. 

We are all but half men this morning,’’ said I, 
smiling. But we have been men, eh, Sapt and 
Fritz, old friends? We have run a good course 
between us.” 

‘'We have defeated traitors and set the king firm 
on his throne,” said Sapt. 

Then Fritz von Tarlenheim suddenly, before I 
could discern his purpose or stay him, uncovered 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


£92 

his head and bent as he used to do, and kissed my 
hand; and as I snatched it away he said, trying to 
laugh : 

“ Heaven doesn’t always make the right men 
kings!” 

Old Sapt twisted his mouth as he wrung my 
hand. 

“ The devil has his share in most things,” said 
he. 

The people at the station looked curiously at the 
tall man with the muffled face, but we took no 
notice of their glances. I stood with my two 
friends, and waited till the train came up to us. 
Then we shook hands again, saying nothing; and 
both this time — and, indeed, from old Sapt it 
seemed strange — bared their heads, and so stood 
still till the train bore me away from their sight. 
So that it was thought some great man traveled 
privately for his pleasure from the little station that 
morning; whereas, in truth, it was only I, Rudolf 
Rassendyll, an English gentleman, a cadet of a 
good house, but a man of no wealth nor position, 
nor of much rank. They would have been disap- 


IF LOVE WERE ALL! 293 

pointed to know that. Yet, had they known all^ 
they would have looked more curiously still. For, 
be I what I might now, I had been for three months 
a king; which, if not a thing to be proud of, is, at 
least, an experience to have undergone. Doubt- 
less I should have thought more of it had there not 
echoed through the air, from the towers of Zenda 
that we were leaving far away, into my ears and 
into my heart the cry of a woman's love — Rudolft 
Rudolf! Rudolf! " 


Hark! I hear it now! 


CHAPTER XXII. 


PRESENT, PAST ^AND FUTURE? 

The details of my return home can have but 
little interest. I went straight to the Tyrol and 
spent a quiet fortnight — mostly on my back, for a 
severe chill developed itself; and I was also the vic- 
tim of a nervous reaction, which made me weak as 
a baby. As soon as I had reached my quarters I 
sent an apparently careless postcard to my brother, 
announcing my good health and prospective re- 
turn. That would serve to satisfy the inquiries as 
to my whereabouts, which were probably still vex- 
ing the prefect of the police of Strelsau. I let my 
mustache and imperial grow again; and as hair 
comes quickly on my face, they were respectable, 
though not luxuriant, by the time that I landed 
myself in Paris and called on my friend George 
Featherly. My interview with him was chiefly 
remarkable for the number of unwilling but neces- 


394 


PRESENT, PAST— AND EUlUREf 295 

sary falsehoods that I told and I rallied him un- 
mercifully when he told me that he had made up 
his mind that I had gone in the track of Mme. de 
Mauban to Strelsau. The lady, it appeared, was 
back in Paris, but was living in great seclusion — a 
fact for which gossip found no difficulty in account- 
ing. Did not all the world know of the treachery 
and death of Duke Michael? Nevertheless George 
bade Bertram Bertrand be of good cheer, ‘‘ for,’^ 
said he flippantly, a live poet is better than a dead 
duke.’’ Then he turned on me and asked: 

What have you been doing to your mus- 
tache?” 

‘To tell the truth,” I answered, assuming a sly 
air, “ a man now and then has reasons for wishing 
to alter his appearance. But it’s coming on very 
well again.” 

“ What? Then I wasn’t so far out! If not the 
fair Antoinette, there was a charmer.” 

“ There is always a charmer,” said I senten- 
tiously. 

But George would not be satisfied till he had 
wormed out of me (he took much pride in his in- 


996 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


genuity) an absolutely imaginary love affair, at- 
tended with the proper soupgon of scandal, which 
had kept me all this time in the peaceful regions of 
the Tyrol. In return for this narrative George re- 
galed me with a great deal of what he called in- 
side information ” (known only to diplomatists) as 
to the true course of events in Ruritania, the plots 
and counterplots. In his opinion, he told me, with 
a significant nod, there was more to be said for 
Black Michael than the public supposed; and he 
hinted at a well-founded suspicion that the mys- 
terious prisoner of Zenda, concerning whom a 
good many paragraphs had appeared, was not a 
man at all, but (here I had some ado not to smile) 
a woman disguised as a man; and that strife be- 
tween the king and his brother for this imaginary 
lady’s favor was at the bottom of their quarrel. 

Perhaps it was Mme. de Mauban herself,” I 
suggested. 

^^No!” said George decisively. Antoinette 
de Mauban was jealous of her, and betrayed the 
duke to the king for that reason. And, to confirm 
what I say, it’s well knov/n that the Princess Flavia 


PRESENT, PAST— AND FUTURES 297 

is now extremely cold to the king, after having 
been most affectionate.’’ 

At this point I changed the subject, and escaped 
from George’s inspired ” delusions. But if diplo- 
matists never know anything more than they had 
succeeded in finding out in this instance, they ap- 
pear to me to be somewhat expensive luxuries. 

While in Paris I wrote to x\ntoinette, though 
I did not venture to call upon her. I received in 
return a very affecting letter, in which she assured 
me that the king’s generosity and kindness, no less 
than her regard for me, bound her conscience to 
absolute secrecy. She expressed the intention of 
settling in the country, and withdrawing herself 
entirely from society. Whether she carried out 
her designs I have never heard; but as I have not 
met her, or heard news of her up to this time, it is 
probable that she did. There is no doubt that she 
was deeply attached to the Duke of Strelsau; and 
her conduct at the time of his death proved that no 
knowledge of the man’s real character was enough 
to root her regard for him out of her heart. 

I had one more battle left to fight — a battle that 


39 ^ the prisoner of zenda. 

would, I knew, be severe, and was bound to end in 
my complete defeat. Was I not back from the 
Tyrol, without having made any study of its in- 
habitants, institutions, scenery, fauna, floia, or 
other features? Had I not simply wasted my time 
in my usual frivolous, good-for-nothing way. 
That was the aspect of the matter which, I was 
obliged to admit, would present itself to mj sister- 
in-law; and against a verdict based on such evi- 
dence I had really no defense to offer. It may be 
supposed, then, that I presented myself in Park 
Lane in a shamefaced, sheepish fashion. On the 
whole, my reception was not so alarming as I had 
feared. It turned out that I had done, not what 
Rose wished, but — the next best thing — what she 
prophesied. She had declared that I should make 
no notes, record no observations, gather no ma- 
terials. My brother, on the other hand, had been 
weak enough to maintain that a really serious re- 
solve had at length animated me. 

When I returned empty-handed Rose was so 
occupied in triumphing over Burlesdon that she 
let me down quite easily, devoting the greater pai t 


PRESENT, PAST-^AND FUTURE? 299 

of her reproaches to my failure to advertise my 
friends of my whereabouts. 

WeVe wasted a lot of time trying to find you,” 
she said. 

I know you have,” said I. Half our ambas- 
sadors have led weary lives on my account. 
George Featherly told me so. But why should 
you have been anxious? I can take care of 
myself.” 

Oh, it wasn’t that,” she cried scornfully; but 
I wanted to tell you about Sir Jacob Borrodaile. 
You know he’s got an embassy — at least, he will 
have in a month — and he wrote to say he hoped 
you would go with him.” 

Where’s he going to? ” 

He’s going to succeed Lord Topham at Strel- 
sau,” said she. You couldn’t have a nicer place, 
short of Paris.” 

“Strelsau! H’m!” said I, glancing at my 
brother. 

Oh, that doesn’t matter! ” exclaimed Rose im« 
patiently. '' Now you will go, won’t you? ” 

‘‘ I don’t know that I care about itt ” 


300 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


“ Oh, you’re too exasperating! ” 

“ And I don’t think I can go to Strelsau. My 
dear Rose, would it be suitable? ” 

“ Oh, nobody remembers that horrid old story 
now.” 

Upon this I took out of my pocket a portrait of 
the King of Ruritania. It had been taken a month 
or two before he ascended the throne, and he 
wore a full beard. Nevertheless she could not 
miss my point when I said, putting it into her 
hands: 

“ In case you’ve not seen or not noticed a pic- 
ture of Rudolf V., there he is. Don’t you think 
they might recall the story if I appeared at the 
court of Ruritania? ” 

My sister-in-law looked at the portrait, and then 
at me. 

“ Good gracious! ” she said, and flung the pho- 
tograph down on the table. 

“ What do you say. Bob? ” I asked. 

Burlesdon got up, went to a corner of the room, 
and searched in a heap of newspapers. Presently 
he came back with a copy of the lUustrated London 


PRESENT, PAST— AND FUTURE} 301 

News. Opening the paper, he displayed a double- 
page engraving of the Coronation of Rudolf V. at 
Strelsau. The photograph and the picture he laid 
side by side. I sat at the table fronting them; and 
as I looked I grew absorbed. My eye traveled 
from my own portrait to Sapt, to Strakencz, to the 
rich robes of the cardinal, to Black Michael’s face, 
to the stately figure of the princess by his side. 
Long I looked and eagerly. I was roused by my 
brother’s hand on my shoulder. He was gazing 
down at me with a puzzled expression. 

It’s a remarkable likeness, you see,” said I. 

I really think I had better not to go to Ruri- 
tania.” 

Rose, though half convinced, would not abandon 
her position. 

It’s just an excuse,” she said pettishly. “ You 
don’t want to do anything. Why, you might be- 
come an ambassador! ” 

I don’t think I want to be an ambassador,” 
said I. 

It’s more than you ever will be,” she retorted. 

That is very likely true, but it is not more that I 


302 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


have been. The idea of being an ambassador 
could scarcely dazzle me. I had been a king! 

So pretty Rose left us in dudgeon; and Burles- 
don, lighting a cigarette, looked at me still with 
that curious gaze. 

“ That picture in the paper ” he said. 

“ Well, what of it? It shows that the king of 
Ruritania and your humble servant are as like as 
two peas.” 

My brother shook his head. 

“ I suppose so,” he said. “ But I should know 
you from the man in the photograph.” 

“ And not from the picture in the paper? ” 

“ I should know the photograph from the pic- 
ture: the picture’s very like the photograph, 
but ” 

“ Well? ” 

. “ It’s more like you,” said my brother. 

My brother is a good man and true — so that, for 
all that he is a married man and mighty fond of his 
wife, he should know any secret of mine. But 
this secret was not mine, and I could not tell it 
to him. 


PRESENT, PAST-^AND FUTURE f 3^3 

I don’t think it’s so much like me as the photo- 
graph,” said I boldly. ‘‘ But anyhow, Bob, I 
won’t go to Strelsau.” 

No, don’t go to Strelsau, Rudolf,” said he. 

And whether he suspects anything, or has a glim- 
mer of the truth, I do not know. If he has he keeps 
it to himself, and he and I never refer to it. 
And we let Sir Jacob Borrodaile find another 
attache. 

Since all these events whose history I have set 
down happened I have lived a very quiet life at a 
small house which I have taken in the country. 
The ordinary ambitions and aims of men in my po- 
sition seem to me dull and unattractive. I have 
little fancy for the whirl of society, and none for the 
jostle of politics. Lady Burlesdon utterly despairs 
of me; my neighbors think me an indolent, dreamy, 
unsociable fellow. Yet I am a young man; and 
sometimes I have a fancy — the superstitious would 
call it a presentiment — that my part in life is not 
yet altogether played; that, somehow and some 
day, I shall mix again in great affairs, I shall again 
spin policies in a busy brain, match my wits against 


304 


THE PRISONER OF ZENDA. 


my enemies’, brace my muscle to fight a good fight 
and strike stout blows. Such is the tissue of my 
thoughts as, with gun or rod in hand, I wander 
through the woods or by the side of the stream. 
Whether the fancy will be fulfilled I cannot tell — 
still less whether the scene that, led by memory, I 
lay for my new exploits will be the true one — for 
I love to see myself once again in the crowded 
streets of Strelsau, or beneath the frowning keep of 
the castle of Zenda. 

Thus led, my broodings leave the future, and 
turn back on the past. Shapes rise before me in 
long array — the wild first revel with the king, the 
rush with my brave tea table, the night in the moat, 
the pursuit in the forest: my friends and my foes, 
the people who learned to love and honor me, the 
desperate men who tried to kill me. And, from 
amid these last, comes one who alone of all of them 
yet moves on earth, though where I know not, yet 
plans (as I do not doubt) wickedness, yet turns 
women’s hearts to softness and men’s to fear and 
hate. Where is young Rupert of Hentzau — the 
boy who came so nigh to beating me? When his 


PRESENT, PAST’-AND FUTURES 


305 


name comes into my head I feel my hand grip and 
the blood move quicker through my veins; and the 
hint of Fate — the presentiment — seems to grow 
stronger and more definite, and to whisper insist- 
ently in my ear that I have yet a hand to play with 
young Rupert; therefore I exercise myself in arms, 
and seek to put ofif the day when the vigor of youth 
must leave me. 

One break comes every year in my quiet life. 
Then I go to Dresden, and there I am met by my 
dear friend and companion Fritz von Tarlenheim. 
Last time his pretty wife Flelga came, and a lusty 
crowing baby with her. And for a week Fritz and 
I are together, and I hear all of what falls out in 
Strelsau; and in the evenings, as we walk and 
smoke together, we talk of Sapt, and of the king, 
and often of young Rupert; and, as the hours grow 
small, at last we speak of Flavia. For every year 
Fritz carries with him to Dresden a little box; in it 
lies a red rose, and round the stalk of the rose is a 
slip of paper with the words written: ''Rudolf— 
Flavia — always.’’ And the like I send back by 
him. That message, and the wearing the rings^ 


3o6 the prisoner OF ZENDA. 

are all that now bind me and the Queen of Ruri- 
tania. For — nobler, as I told her, for the act — she 
had followed where her duty to her country and 
her House led her, and is the wife of the king, unit- 
ing his subjects to him by the love they bear to her, 
giving peace and quiet days to thousands by her 
self-sacrifice. There are moments when I dare not 
think of it, but there are others when I rise in spirit 
to where she ever dwells; then I can thank God that 
I love the noblest lady in the world, the most gra- 
cious and beautiful, and that there was nothing in 
my love that made her fall short in her high 
duty. 

Shall I see her face again — the pale face and the 
glorious hair? Of that I know nothing; Fate has 
no hint, my heart no presentiment. I do not.know. 
In this world, perhaps — ^nay, it is likely — never. 
And can it be that somewhere, in a manner whereof 
our flesh-bound minds have no apprehension, she 
and I will be together again, with nothing to come 
between us, nothing to forbid our love? T1 I 
know not, nor wiser heads than mine. But if it 
be never — if I can never hold sweet converse again 


PRESENT. PAST— AND FUTURE} 


307 


with her, or look upon her face, or know from her 
her love, why, then, this side the grave, I will live as 
becomes the man whom she loves; and for the other 
side I must pray a dreamless sleep. 


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I-' ' 



R. MACAULAY’S 


THE VALLEY CAPTIVES 

i2mo., 335 pp. $i.ss net. 

A novel of Welsh life to-day that has an appeal much 
wider than its restricted setting. It tells the story of a 
brother and sister, the captives of environment, who after 
many trials win ‘^open country.’^ 

Ngw York Sun. — “Plenty of vivid and exceedingly well related incident. 
. . . is an exceedingly well expressed and absorbing story.” 

New York Tribune. — “This new author has talent, there can be no doubt 
of that, and a pen already admirably trained for its work, . . . Not an 
incongruous touch, not a false line, can be found in these five portraits.” 

Chicago Evening Post. — “ A novel with pretensions to the first rank. 
. . . There can be no question about its distinction of thought and 

expression. The author has vision and a poetic and rarely beautiful power 
of description. . . , In the quiet dignity of its unfoldment, the story swings 
free from anything melodramatic or dully didactic.” 

Chicago Record’-Herald. — “A vivid, compelling, but gloomy studyof a fine 
character. ... In this strong well-written story . . .it holds the 
attention firmly, . , . the embodied lessons unmistakable and important.” 

Hartford Courant. — “The vital interest of the book is Teddy. His 
character is a unique success in fiction, often picturesque always thorough 
and convincing.” 

Living Age, — “Of unusual quality and power. . . . Brilliantly written, 
showing a wide familiarly with phases of current thought and a shrewd- 
ness of observation tempered wholesomely with sympathy.” 

Providence Journal. — “A work of unusual quality, both in its delicacy 
and in its strength.” 

Philadelphia Press. — “In many ways a remarkable book. The charac- 
ters are drawn with terrible insight into human weakness.” 

San Francisco Chronicle. — “A remarkably well written story. . . . 

Its men and women are flesh and blood and their struggles of intensely 
human interest.” 


HENRY 

PUBLISHERS 


HOLT AND 


COMPANY 

NEW YORK 


Three Novels by ANTHONY HOPE 

With Illustrations by 

C. D. GIBSON and H. C. CHRISTY 

X2mo. $1.50 each. 

j'j'M Impression of 

THE PRISONER OF ZENDA 

With five full-page illustrations by Charles Dana Gibson, and a view 
and plan of the castle by Howard Ince. 

Critic : “ A glorious story, which cannot be too warmly recommended to 
all who love a tale that stirs the blood. Perhaps not the least among its 
many good qualities is the fact that its chivalry is of the nineteenth, not of 
the sixteenth century ; that it is a tale of brave men and true, and of a fair 
woman of to-day.” 

20th Impression of 

RUPERT OF HENTZAU 

A Sequel to “The Prisoner of Zenda.” 

With eight full-page illustrations by Charles Dana Gibson. 

Critic: “Better than ‘The Prisoner of Zenda.’” 

E. A. Dithmar in New York Times Saturday Review : “Delightfully 
stirring and irresponsible, ... a sequel for a wonder as vigorous and 
powerful as its original ... It seems to bring romance to life again.” 

Li/e : “A sequel to ‘ Zenda ’ which does not let down one bit the high 
standard of chivalrous love which was the charm of that romance . . . These 
‘ Zenda ’ stories have added a distinctly modern value to what men and 
women mean by the ‘ sense of honor.’ 

i 8 th Impression of 

THE DOLLY DIALOGUES 

Including the four additional dialogues. With eight full-page 
illustrations. By H. C. Christy. 

Boston Transcript : “ Characterized by delicious drollery . . Beneath 

the surface play of words lies a tragi-comedy of life . , , There is infinite 
suggestion in every line.” 


Uniform with the above, but without illustrations 

FATHER STAFFORD. By Anthony Hope 

jth Impression, $1,^0 

Literary World: “ It has all the quality of his later work, the fun, the 
audacity, the epigrammatic touch, the clearly accentuated characters.” • 

Other Books by Anthony Hope 

With Frontispieces, i 8 mo, y^c, each. 

The Indiscretion of the Duchess. 12th Impression 
A Man of Mark, nth Impression 
A Chang^e of Air. loth Impression 
Sport Royal and other Stories. Impression 

Henry Holt and Company 


PUBLISHERS 

VI '03. 


NEW YORK 


WILLIAM DE MORGANS JOSEPH VANCE 

A touching story, yet full of humor, of life-long love and 
heroic sacrifice. While the scene is mostly in and near the 
London of the fifties, there are some telling glimpses of 
Italy, where the author lives much of the time ($1.75). 

“ The book of the last decade ; the best thing in fiction since Mr. 
Meredith and Mr. Ilard^; must take its place as the first great English 
novel that has appeared in the twentieth century.” — Lewis Melville in 
New York Times Saturday Review. 

“ If the reader likes both ‘ David Copperfield ’ and ‘ Peter Ibbetson,’ 
he can find the two books in this one.” — The Independent. 


WILUAM DE MORGAN^S ALICE-FOR-SHORT 

This might paradoxically be called a genial ghost-and- 
murder story, yet humor and humanity again dominate, and 
the most striking element is the touching love story of an 
unsuccessful man. The reappearance in Nineteenth Century 
London of the long-buried past, and a remarkable case of 
suspended memory, give the dramatic background ($1.75). 

“Really worth reading and praising . . , will be hailed as a master- 
piece. If any writer of the present era is read a half century hence, 
a quarter century, or even a decade, that writer is William De 
Morgan.” — Boston Transcript. 

“ It is the Victorian age itself that speaks in those rich, interesting, 
over-crowded books. . . . Will be remembered as Dickens* novels are 
remembered. ’ ’ — S pringileld Republican . 


WILLIAM DE MORGAN^S SOMEHOW GOOD 

The purpose and feeling of this novel are intense, yet it is 
all mellowed by humor, and it contains perhaps the author’s 
freshest and most sympathetic story of young love. Through- 
out its pages the “ God be praised evil has turned to good 
of the old Major rings like a trumpet call of hope. This 
story of to-day tells of a triumph of courage and devotion 

“ A book as sound, as sweet, as wholesome, as wise, as any in the 
range of fiction.” — The Nation. 

** Our older novelists (Dickens and Thackeray) will have to look to 
their laurels, for the new one is fast proving himself their equal. A 
higher quality of enjoyment than is derivable from the work of any 
other novelist now living and active in either England or America.” — 
The Dial. 


HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 

34 WEST 3 3D STREET (vii’ lo) NEW YORK 


/ 

,k' 

V 


ROMAIN ROLLAND’S 

JEAN-CHRISTOPHE 

DAWN • MORNING • YOUTH • REVOLT 

Translated by Gilbert Cannan. 


600 pp. $1.50 net; by mail, $1.62, 

It commences with vivid episodes of this musician’s chi i- 
hood, his fears, fancies, and troubles, and his almr ui ^ .y 
mi cal sense. He plays before the Grand Duke at Sv . 1, 
but he is destined for greater things. An idol of the hour, in 
some ways suggesting Richard Strauss, tries in vain to wret.k 
his faith in his career. Early love episodes follow, and 'it the 
close of tbe book, the hero, like Wagner, has to fly, a hopeful 
exile. 

‘ Hats off, gentlemen — a genius.* . . . Has the time come for 

the 20th century to uncover before a master work? A book as big, 
as elemental, as original as though the art of fiction began to-day.” — 
Springfield Republican, 

“ The most momentous novel that has come to us from France, or 
from any other European country, in a decade. . . . Highly 

commendable and effective translation . . . the story moves at 

a rapid pace. It never lags.*’ — E. F, Edgett in Boston Transcript. 

“ The characters of his story prove that he embraces with a loving 
understanding the seven ages of man. ... It not only contains 
a picture of contemporary musical life, but holds a message bearing 
on our conception of life and art. It presents genius for once without 
the morbid features that obscure its essence.” — Amelia von Ende in 
New York Times Review. 

“ An amazing performance carried through by an exceptionally 
gifted writer. ... It demands more than one reading on account 
of the wider life in tl>e basin through which its river flows.” — N. Y. 
Tribune. 

** The other hosts of characters are drawn with the accuracy and sympathy oi 
Dickens and without his tendency to caricature. . . . M. RollaiiU is as real- 
istic as Zola, and as discerning of inner motive and conduct as eredith. Ht 
has a supreme gift for seeing and telling things. . . . The first impulse is tc 

regard that opening chapter a miracle.” — Hartford Courant. 

“ Not to know this woric will soon be to argue oneself unknown in the realm 
of those devoted to thci best fiction.” — San Fra 7 jcisco Chronic 


HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS .lEW YORK 


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